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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491673">Forgetmenot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free'>venom_for_free</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A lot of firsts, Amnesia, Angst, Canon Compliant, Complete, Cute, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, LITERALLY, M/M, Otabek has been in love with Yuri for a long time, Pining, Post canon, Romance, Yuri is about to find out, discussions of injuries, getting together-fastrun edition, slowish burn, there is a hospital scene in here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:15:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It is an easy jump, comparably—a triple toe loop. You take off from the left toe pick. The other foot travels on the back outside edge. Something they can do at any time of the day, something that doesn't take any thought, something that is so ingrained in muscle memory, it merely happens. </p><p>But it doesn't happen. Not today. Or it does, but something goes wrong. Yuri will later learn that it wasn't the jump itself, it was Otabek gliding backward and slamming into Georgi. The Russian was unaffected, Otabek hit his shoulder, but the latter fell and landed on his head. It's too quick to see, too fast to follow. Yuri only hears the collision and sees the aftermath. </p><p>--<br/>Or: Otabek suffers a head injury. Yuri tells the paramedics he is his boyfriend because he doesn't want Beka stranded in a foreign country's hospital. But when Otabek wakes back up, he lost parts of his memory. The doctor says it's probably temporary. But the doctor also explained to him that his boyfriend is here to help him through it. Now, Yuri is stuck in a lie and the way Otabek's eyes light up does not help.  </p><p>Finished, updates every Friday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>442</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It is an easy jump, comparably—a triple toe loop. You take off from the left toe pick. The other foot travels on the back outside edge. Something they can do at any time of the day, something that doesn't take any thought, something that is so ingrained in muscle memory, it merely </span>
  <em>
    <span>happens</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it doesn't happen. Not today. Or it does, but something goes wrong. Yuri will later learn that it wasn't the jump itself, it was Otabek gliding backward and slamming into Georgi. The Russian was unaffected, Otabek hit his shoulder, but the latter fell and landed on his head. It's too quick to see, too fast to follow. Yuri only hears the collision and sees the aftermath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek doesn't move. Yuri sprints as fast as his skates allow across the rink. Mila is already there, Viktor jumps up on the bleachers and seems to be calling an ambulance. Yakov almost collides with Yuri in their attempt to get to the injured skater, but once they notice it's Yuri, they part like the red sea. No use in risking the ice tiger's fury right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He drops down, looks Otabek over. Otabek, who came from Kazakhstan to train with the Russians. Otabek, who's spending his offseason on foreign turf just to have a summer with his best friend. Otabek, who's far from home and bleeding from the head. Otabek, who's unconscious in Yuri's arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's no way he can lift him. It's not like Wötzel and Steuer in 1994. Yuri can't just carry him off the ice, eyes full of confused panic. And he shouldn't think about pair skating and injuries now. Shouldn't think of Elena Bereschnaja, who fell into a multiple week-long coma in 1996 when her partner's skate penetrated her skull in a camel spin. Shouldn't think of Tatjana Totmianina, who fell when her partner held her above his head and spun, then stumbled. He doesn't want to think of Dimitrij Palamartschuk and the world championship of 2000 in Nizza, or Paul Binnebose, who broke his skull during training when his back muscles gave in, and he dropped his partner onto himself. But all those head-related injuries just roll behind his eyes while he holds on to his best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it's because he's been thinking of pair skating for too long. Still, when the medical team rushes to Otabek and tries to pry Yuri off, he's shouting that he's his partner and that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> come along to the hospital and that </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span> will stop him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fucking bless Yakov when he, for once, simply nods to confirm. Bless the entire fucking team for keeping their mouths shut when Otabek is transferred to the ambulance and Yuri climbs in after him, holding his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri is curled into his seat next to Otabek's bed. He's happy to know that Yakov is out there, talking to Otabek's family. Yuri's head is buzzing from when the medics tried to explain what they had done and would do to Otabek now, but he had forced himself to listen, so his best friend's family could know. They had the right to know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"We will start with computed tomography." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"A what?" He's a skater, not a medical student. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"A CT. That's a computerized x-ray imaging procedure. A narrow beam of x-rays is aimed at the patient. It quickly rotates around the body and produces signals the machine's computer uses to generate cross-sectional images—or "slices"—of the body and—" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"YOU ARE SLICING HIM UP?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"No, no. It's just an x-ray. Just … </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>visually</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>. We slice him up </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>visually</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>." Yuri nods. Oh. Yeah. That makes more sense. He spaces out when the doctor explains the details, but Yuri's attention returns when there's a new word. "We will follow that up with a magnetic resonance imaging technique." The doctor tries to gauge Yuri's reaction, finds more confusion, and decides to continue the explanation. "Another imaging technique, it uses strong magnetic fields, magnetic field gradients, and radio waves to generate images of the organs in the body." </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He's still not a medical student, but he also doesn't care. As long as they take care of Otabek … Yuri learns they'll also do blood tests, then the doctor is gone and Otabek with him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri checks his phone. A dozen text messages and calls, but what is he supposed to tell the other skaters, the media, Otabek's family? </span>
  <em>
    <span>We don't know.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That's why Yuri looks at the time. They have been gone for a few hours now, and Yuri keeps staring at the empty bed. It's a metaphor for his heart right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doors open eventually. Otabek is rolled in in a wheelchair, handled by a doctor, and Yuri can't believe he's awake already. He jumps up, hurries over, crashes into his best friend. The immediate scolding that follows is amicably ignored as Yuri carefully touches the bandage now covering the wound. "This scar will be so cool." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek looks up at him and blinks. He seems … interested? As far as his stoic features portrait such a thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Please, Mister Plisetsky. Sit down. Let us sit down. We have a lot to discuss." He obliges because why wouldn't he. Otabek is transferred to the bed, and Yuri settles next to him before the doctor continues. "I already talked to your partner here. The scans didn't show any dramatic brain damage. Mister Altin suffered a commotio cerebri, or a concussion. That's a first-degree traumatic brain injury according to the Glasgow coma scale." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All those scary words let Yuri's panic return tenfolds. Coma scale? But Otabek is awake! Traumatic brain injuries? But he said concussion. Can it be that bad? The doctor leans forward and touches his hand. It's a weirdly intimate gesture. Otabek seems to notice because he frowns. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry, Mister Plisetsky. It's the lightest version of traumatic brain injuries. Your partner might struggle with nausea, vomiting, dizziness, and head pain. All of those are common symptoms, but they will go down on their own. We will keep him overnight to repeatedly check on him, but he was fortunate, considering the circumstances." That's probably what the monitors Otabek is strapped to almost immediately are for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri understands. He nods, smiles when Otabek takes his hand. He's still staring, but Yuri doesn't care. He can stare as long as he wants because he's awake, he's fine, or at least will be. Nothing to worry about anymore. "Don't worry, just one night, and then I'll take you back home with me, alright?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, something weird happens—Otabek smiles. Actually smiles. Not just grins, not scruffs, not just a twitch of the corner of his mouth. A full-on smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sits up and gives Yuri a kiss on the cheek, then winces because apparently the quick movement made his head hurt, grins again, and kisses his cheek once more. "Worth it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doctor nods at them, obviously pleased that his patient has someone he can rely on. "No reading or television for the next few days. They can make his symptoms worse. He needs to sleep a lot and needs peace. If you can, stay with him. Significant others are often calming to the patient. And whatever you do—be careful not to stress him. Stress can cause problematic side effects that are easy to avoid. Keep him away from everything that might upset him—football games, angry neighbors, loud pets, whatever." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri nods. He can do that. Luckily, all those things are not an issue anyway, and their primary source of stress—training—will definitely take a backseat for Otabek for quite a while now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lucky bastard to get an injury like that in the off-season." He brushes an unruly strand out of Otabek's eyes. The doctor gives them an approving look and retreats, leaving the two alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek is smiling again, and Yuri doesn't know what he's doing that for. It must be a side effect of the concussion. "That's only one of the reasons I'm a lucky bastard, apparently." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's a hell of a lot of words from Otabek fucking Altin. Yuri can't process that because in the next moment, his chin is tenderly grabbed between a thumb and forefinger, and he's pulled into a quick, gentle kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>What? </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek is smiling again. That damn smile. Heat races up into Yuri's face. He feels warm, wants to take clothes off, but that might be misunderstood. "What did you do that for?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still that soft smile. "Am I not allowed to kiss my caring boyfriend?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. So Otabek is shitting him. Yuri blinks and stares when a nurse bursts in before he can even reply. The fingers on his skin seem to melt into him. Why is Otabek not pulling back? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mister Altin? Oh. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you! But … I was sent to document the medical history, and what happened up to the injury?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek blinks a few times, then shrugs. "I don't know." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What do you mean you don't know?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know." He looks at Yuri as if it was his responsibility to explain those complex dynamics to her now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Yuri waves his hand around. "He doesn't know." Only then does he understand. "Wait, what?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek shrugs back at him. "I can't remember." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nurse sighs. "That's… a common side effect with that type of injury. Anterograde amnesia." She pinches the bridge of her nose as if she's the inconvenienced one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What does that mean?" It's rare Yuri feels dumb, but today isn't a good day for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It means he forgot some things close to the injury and what happened after. He's clearer now, obviously, but … Let me guess, Mister Altin. You don't remember your scans?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek chuckles and takes Yuri's hand again. "I … don't even remember why I'm in Russia." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that's it. That's the phrase that pulls the carpet from under Yuri's feet. "What?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I mean, obviously, I'm here for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Otabek raises their joined hands and gives Yuri's knuckles a delicate kiss. "But I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>remember </span>
  </em>
  <span>coming here." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A quick look at the nurse, and she seems to be equally as disturbed as Yuri. "So retrograde amnesia on top." She looks so personally disappointed. Fucking bitch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That means?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He forgot the past." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How dare Yuri not know. "How much of it?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's for you to find out, I'm afraid." She purses her lips as if she bit into something sour and fills in her chart." What happened, Mister Plisetsky?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek looks at him, apparently also interested in finding out what happened to him, but Yuri shakes his head. "He fell on the ice. We are figure skaters. I think he popped a jump, but … I was across the rink. No idea what exactly happened." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is there anyone who might know?" Her voice is flat out bored now. Yuri wants to claw her throat. Can't she see Otabek is struggling? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My coach might. Yakov. He's out there, talking to Beka's family." At the nickname, Otabek lights up again and kisses Yuri's knuckles once more. No one with a severe medical injury should smile so much. Especially not if they usually have precisely one facial expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets up and leaves, annoyed with the lack of information. Neither of the men are watching her anymore. They stare into each other's eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of the blue, Otabek cups his face and pulls Yuri into a gentle kiss. Full-on lip lock. He brushes his thumb over Yuri's cheek. "The situation might be shit, but at least I have somehow managed to score the world's best boyfriend." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh shit. Oh fuck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Yuri understands. Retrograde amnesia and the information that they are partners. Yuri at his bed, Yuri calling their joined flat </span>
  <em>
    <span>'home', </span>
  </em>
  <span>Otabek being in Saint Petersburg to visit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a second, Yuri wants to explain the situation, but then he remembers. No stress. Under no circumstances can Otabek be stressed. And learning that the only thing you have from your past—while you're stuck in a foreign country—is a lie … yeah. That would be considered a hell of a lot of stress. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Yuri schools his features and smiles. "Of course. I'm here for you." And somehow, even though it feels wrong and he feels bad, he finds it in himself to kiss Otabek again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri hasn't figured out why yet, but this Otabek is a little bit of a goofball. He keeps grinning, stays close, wants to </span>
  <em>
    <span>cuddle</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He made Yuri climb onto the bed with him, for fuck's sake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No TV, no phone, no books. It's annoying. It's perfect. They are talking more than they ever have before. Which is weird because the silence between them has always been comfortable, but now … now Yuri wonders how things have been so quiet all the time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's resting against Otabek, his head on the muscular chest of his best friend. Yuri can hear his heartbeat, can hear how it speeds up whenever they move.  His own heart is beating like crazy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Especially when Otabek takes his face and tells him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I didn't think I would get to talk to you again. After Yakov's summer camp … I was so sure you hated me.' </span>
  </em>
  <span>Now, this isn't new information, but the part after that … Otabek continues with </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Who would have thought I'd manage to score my childhood crush. That's absurd, right?!'</span>
  </em>
  <span> and alright, apparently he was Otabek's childhood crush, but … that's normal, right? People have crushes. There is no need for Yuri's heart to run a marathon in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's still picking up whenever Otabek brushes his palm over Yuri's back or leans in for a kiss. He hasn't expected it, but Otabek is obviously a romantic at heart. He wants to hold hands the whole time. When he gets dizzy, he stares into Yuri's eyes because </span>
  <em>
    <span>'they ground him.' </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuri had to kiss his god damn headache better, how crazy is that? That's like Viktor and Katsudon's level of cringy extra bullshit. Of course, Yuri still did it. He can't afford to stress Otabek, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His best friend hums whenever they kiss, and Yuri thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. When asked about it, Otabek explained that he is happy, and while Yuri is used to all this by now, it's all new to him, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>'please, Yuri, it just feels so good.' </span>
  </em>
  <span>And that's an entirely ridiculous explanation, but holy shit, does it make him feel one way or the other. And so they keep kissing, caressing, and cuddling, and Yuri isn't sure, but he might be sick since his stomach can't stop rolling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek likes him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> Otabek likes him, at least. The usual, stoic Otabek that tends to keep to himself will never talk to Yuri again. He's currently murdering their relationship for a one-second decision. Because either </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> Otabek likes Yuri, too, and he will feel betrayed by Yuri's lie, or he doesn't like him, and he will feel betrayed by Yuri's lie. He can't win. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it's even worse because they have been friends for years, but Yuri doesn't know where they stand anymore. He knows he likes him. Always did. But until now, Yuri thought he considered him as a friend, nothing more. And the kissing feels nice, alright, but it shouldn't feel nice to kiss your friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn't feel nice to get a drunk kiss on the cheek by Viktor. It doesn't feel nice to get an overexcited kiss on the lips by Mila, like she does with all her female friends, whenever she forgets that Yuri isn't one of them. It does feel nice to get a kiss on his hair by his grandfather, but it's an entirely different kind of nice. One that simmers in his heart like a campfire in the dark, lighting bugs swaying in the breeze. Not like a tornado of fire rolling around in his chest, filling his lungs with ashes, making him unable to breathe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What if Otabek will hate him for this? Because Yuri might have learned a secret, or because he betrayed his trust, or because Yuri is the reason he's in Russia at all. In Almaty, there wouldn't have been rink mates to distract him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri has a lot of time to think about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>'what if'</span>
  </em>
  <span>s now that Otabek has fallen asleep. They are still tightly coiled around each other. Hospitals have their own sterile smell, but all Yuri can focus on is the minty note of Otabek's horrendous three-in-one body wash. He's sure the fourth secret application is to get the rust off of a bike or car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Is it weird that Yuri notices things now for the first time? He usually doesn't have the time to stop and stare. But one would think that after years of friendship, he knows that Otabek has dimples. Sure, the man never fucking smiles. But how could he miss such an endearing detail? There's no curve in Otabek's eyebrows. They are thick, yet well kept, straight caterpillars. Some of the tiny strands cling together, and Yuri wants to smooth his finger over them, but he's afraid he will wake his friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri leans up and stares down at Otabek. Is he allowed to sleep? Yuri thinks he heard that you shouldn't rest after a concussion. But was that before or after the tests? They said his brain is okay, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Very fine when there's amnesia,'</span>
  </em>
  <span> comes a hiss from the back of his mind. He needs to explore that. But Yuri is trapped against Otabek's chest by bear paws around his middle and he can barely move. Has he always had hands that big? They must be new. No, wait. That makes no sense. Big, sturdy hands. Yuri is long-limbed, thin, and treacherously </span>
  <em>
    <span>'fragile.'</span>
  </em>
  <span> He looks tiny in comparison, even if he's taller than Otabek now. No one should be imposing while they sleep in a hospital bed with a head wound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>THE HEAD WOUND. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through sheer force of will and a lot of wiggling, Yuri manages to get out of Otabek's grasp. He climbs off the bed and hurries out, determined to find a doctor and </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, here's the ranking. Place three, finding fucking Waldo on a wall-sized poster. Place two, finding a staff member in a department store when you need specific advice. Place one? Finding </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> willing to listen to him for a split second. Doesn't even have to be a doctor, a nurse will be just fine. But there's no one. Yakov, yeah, but he can't really answer his question. Instead, he's asking his own ones, and Yuri doesn't have time for that, right now or in general. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally gets hold of a nurse, he clings to his arm, determined not to be brushed off. "CAN BEKA SLEEP?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man blinks at him as if he wants to know at which precise temperature aluminum melts, Kelvin, Fahrenheit, and Celsius. "What?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yakov catches up to them. "I think … he wants to know … if … a patient … with a concussion … is allowed … to sleep." And Yuri knows he's a pretty old man by now, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> use how out of breath Yakov is when he's getting yelled at about endurance. Next time. Right now, Otabek matters more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nurse gives them a funny look. "Depends on his stats? Haven't you spoken to a doctor?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just when Yuri is about to yell at him that there is no doctor in the entire fucking building, the one who brought Otabek in walks out of a patient room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri abandons the useless nurse and hurries to him. "Is Beka allowed to sleep?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doctor smiles. It's warm, not condescending. "He will need rest, so it's highly encouraged, yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay. Good. Very good. Beka isn't killing himself with this nap. A curt nod and Yuri turns to go back. But before he reaches the door, Yakov stops him. It sounds urgent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Otabek's family wants to come to Russia. They are worried." Well, it makes sense. Yuri would be worried, too. Shit, he'd fly in, dropping everything, to be at his best friend's side, so his parents of all people doing the same isn’t a surprise at all. But Yakov urges on. "How did he react to you faking a relationship? Because I've heard murmurs in the hospital. It won't be long until it's in the gossip magazines and … we need a functional story. It's not like we can admit to lying to the staff." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh fuck. Yakov doesn't know yet. No one told him because he's not direct family. "Otabek lost his memory, apparently. He … doesn't remember … that I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> his boyfriend." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence. That's unusual for his coach. Usually, Yakov is quick to yell. It's uncommon for Yuri, too. "He … thinks you're his boyfriend?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Who told him?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The doctor, apparently." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yakov looks at Yuri, gives him a once over. It's evident he's checking for signs of distress. "And you're fine with that?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>not fucking thrilled</span>
  </em>
  <span>, okay?" Yuri rolls his eyes. He ignores it when his stomach joins in. "But the doctor said if I upset him, it might have negative consequences. I'll have to wait until he's more stable to tell him." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stare at each other. For once, there's not an unspoken challenge between them but confusion. Uncertainty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"When will his parents be here?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Roughly ten hours." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri nods. The timer is running. He walks the last steps to Otabek's door and enters, as quiet as he can. He will need a plan, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper</span>
  </em>
  <span> plan. But first, he will have to get back into his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri tells himself he does this for Otabek's comfort. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello everyone! How is everyone today? Do you dig the concept? What are your thoughts and expectations?<br/>I'm excited to share this story with you and even more excited about a lot of people claiming an interest in it!<br/>What would you do in Yuri's place?</p><blockquote class="userstuff">
  <p>Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor, and also, to you as the reader.<br/>I'm also on<br/><a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free">Tumblr</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/">, Instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/venom_for_free">Twitter</a></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Recap Chapter 1: Otabek suffers a head injury when a training lesson goes wrong. He lands in the hospital, Yuri with him who told the medics he is his boyfriend so that they can go together. In the hospital, he learns that Beka has retrograde amnesia, forgetting parts of his past - and can't remember they are only friends. Now he is stuck with his lie and Otabek? Otabek is strangely happy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His plan to talk is sabotaged by two facts. One, Otabek sleeps for the better part of the next seven hours. Not even the nurses checking up on him every few hours could disturb him very much. In the beginning, they tried to order Yuri out of bed, but they quickly gave up. Two, as soon as Otabek wakes properly, he clamps down on Yuri with the sweetest smile in the world and a gently sighed </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Yura.'</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So much for Yuri’s hope that he’ll open his eyes and </span>
  <em>
    <span>remember</span>
  </em>
  <span> all of a sudden. He has to remind himself that he can't relax into the warm lips on his baby hairs. It is all a lie, and soon they will crash like a shooting star. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three more hours to confess to his best friend that he is, in fact, not his boyfriend. Three more hours to try and salvage as much as he can from their friendship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thoughts are torn apart the second Otabek guides his jaw, tilting it gently upwards and into a kiss. It's soft, without a doubt. It's reassured, as if they have done this a hundred times. It tickles because it's new. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey. Stop thinking. I can hear the gears turning in your head, Yura. Relax. I'll be fine. I got you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah. Well. Not really. Yuri kisses him again and feels a little bad about that his most prominent worry isn’t if Otabek's head is better, but if Otabek will still like him after all this. Once he's called out indirectly, shame tints his face red. "I just want you to be okay. I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be okay." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bless Otabek for smiling like this. Yuri's heart hiccups, and it's really not fair. "We will be, I promise." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah." And then everything goes to shit in a heartbeat because the twitches of the corners of Otabek's lips are suddenly no longer the final form of his smile. There are teeth now. He's smiling like an actual human being, and it's devastating until Yuri hears the next words. "I love you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone pulled a rug from under him, but after the fall, he doesn't merely smack onto the floor. The rug covered a black hole, and Yuri falls and falls and falls. Nothing is breaking his tumbe, nothing is holding him back. He's swallowed by the constriction in his chest. No air is left in the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek's smile wavers, but then he catches himself. "You think I shouldn't say that right now if I can't remember, right?" And Yuri desperately tries to save face, some way, any way, so he nods. Now, the smile is back in full force. "Don't worry, zhanym. I don't need my memories to know what I feel. But I actually remembered something!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he looks so proud, it almost breaks Yuri's heart. He still can't breathe, so instead of a proper answer, he forces out a question. Sort of. "Yeah?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah!" Otabek is far too enthusiastic for someone with a concussion. "It's … Moskow, I think. Maybe last year. There's … a podium. You and I. We hugged." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek puts a knife into his chest and turns it because the memory is real. It was the Rostelecom cup. They finalized their qualification for last year's Grand Prix during the November tournament. When they climbed off the podium, they hugged. Briefly. As friends. Of course, as friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri forces a smile, and because it's easier than talking, he kisses Otabek. But maybe that wasn't such a good idea because he seems to consider this as a confirmation, so he continues. "There was a hotel room. We were on the bed. Watched some show together? It's so domestic." Otabek kisses his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another real memory now tainted pink through artificial lenses. Thinking about it, it was domestic. People stopped questioning long ago why they shared a bed during tournaments. They are best friends, it's cheaper, it's the only time they have together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Otabek makes it sound like more, and Yuri isn't sure how to feel about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opens, and Yakov looks around the frame. He didn’t sleep in the hospital, but he still doesn't look any better than Yuri. "Hey, boys." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, coach." In unison, as if they practiced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your family will be here in a few hours." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek frowns a little. "Oh." That's not the reaction Yuri expected. "Why?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Because of your concussion."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're in a hospital." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then discharge me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What the fuck? Otabek has an excellent relationship with his family. Why would he not want them to come? Yuri looks at him, worried that this is a stressor to him. "You don't want them here?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They will want me to return. They don't like me training abroad. Now that they have a reason to think it's dangerous … I want to stay with you, Yuri. For as long as possible." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit, he can't fucking cry in a hospital bed. Not like this. He doesn't realize he's squeezing Otabek until Yuri almost pulls one of the cables out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They are already on their way." Yakov is unusually quiet, the statement almost somber, and Yuri knows his timer is running. It doesn't help that Otabek kisses him right then and there, maybe to calm himself or Yuri, he doesn't know. Yakov frowns. "So you didn't tell him yet—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's met with a scorching hot glare. But the damage is done, and Otabek looks at Yuri, expecting an explanation. In an attempt to pull something out of his ass, Yuri says the first thing he can think of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Your parents don't know about us yet. Most people don't. I didn't want to pull a Nikiforov." And he prays Otabek accepts this. Yakov is red, looks constipated, but Yuri can't change that right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." He stares at Yuri. "Who knows?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit. More digging in his chest of lies. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Uhm … team Russia, basically." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek nods. "Makes sense since we share hotel rooms. And I'm here to train and everything. Who else?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one. Because it isn't real. Yuri swallows, but Yakov is his saving grace. "Yurochka only recently turned eighteen, and even though Kazakhstan and Russia agree on sixteen as the age of consent, many other countries don't. You wanted to wait until it was safe. Everywhere. And you didn't want to announce it in the middle of the season, so it doesn't sound like you're doing it for PR." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's the most solid lie Yuri had the pleasure of hearing in a long time. It's what coaching Nikiforov does to your abilities to talk in front of people and hide your skaters' scandals. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Otabek buys it, Yuri can tell. "And now?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yakov, again. "Now, there is other news. Give it time, Otabek. You don't want to drown out the happy news in reports of a head injury, do you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri can see him pale a little. "No. No, I don't want that." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thank God. Yuri squeezes his arm with a gentle smile. "We don't want people to think we don't mean it, right?" Wait, what? Why would he say something like this? It's about believability, he tries to convince himself. If he's kissing Otabek, he might as well pretend to protect their relationship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, it feels wrong, in a way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"When can I go home?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Home. Home is Lilia's studio apartment, Yuri guesses. He thinks about the guest bedroom where all of Otabek's luggage is. About their toothbrushes sharing a cup. About the hoodie Yuri sleeps in, that he stole from Otabek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's easy to pretend it has always been like that when there's little evidence of the contrary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri says they have to talk to the doctor, but in reality, speaking to Yakov is more urgent. Otabek buys that, too. Asks for a kiss before they leave, nonetheless. Yuri complies. Of course, he does. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they are outside, he frowns at his coach, tries to silence the man without words because there's a lie that needs protecting. But Yuri can't stay mute for long. "What are we going to do?! His parents will be here in 3 hours!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yakov's eyes say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>'You got yourself into that situation.'</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he has the grace not to voice it. "I can ask Lilia to prepare the apartment. But that's it. Tell everyone to pretend. At least the other skaters. And you … you will remind that boy again that his parents don't know and that they aren't supposed to know, just like your fans!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, god, the fans." Yuri smacks a hand to his face. If Yuri's Angels find out about this, it's doomsday. "I'll remind him." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yakov gives a curt nod that Yuri knows means he will take care of things. Gratefulness blossoms in his chest, but he swallows it down before it ruins his public image. He will show Yakov in his own way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two hours later and Yuri is back in the hospital bed. Otabek plays with his hair as best as the cords allow it. "I’ve always wanted to do this." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri has no idea what it means because, in Otabek's world, touching each other's hair is something they do, casually. "When?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Whenever I saw you. Before we dated, I mean." He smirks and turns to Yuri again. By now, Yuri recognizes the look in his eyes, deciphers the affection with ease. It's the one Otabek gives him when he wants to be kissed but is too polite to ask for it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri does it anyway because he has to. He doesn't have to blush and smile, though. Those things happen unauthorized. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I remembered a thing." Otabek kisses his forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri's fingers tickle, it's like pins and needles, and it bothers him. "Yeah?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. About Barcelona. When I confessed." His smile is too soft, too kind, too open. Yuri feels like he's seeing something that isn't for mortal eyes. Something secret and forbidden, something he could have had in another life but didn't deserve yet. He forces a nod to indicate understanding. "I was so nervous back then." That makes no sense. Otabek rescued him from a mob of fans. He was not only the hero of Kazakhstan but also the ice tiger's savior. "It was such a crazy thing to do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri shakes his head. "It was kind." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I guess you can put it that way." He snickers to himself, and it freaks Yuri out because he’s never heard such a sound from his best friend. Even now, after years of being close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hmm?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I mean, all the preparation. So much went into that little stunt. I can't believe it worked." Otabek squeezes him tighter, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay, what stunt?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yuri gives his best friend a confused look, and there is that snicker again. "I never told you? Promise you won't dump me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course Yuri promises because why wouldn't he? It's not like they are actually dating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Parc Güell … where I confessed? You, uhm … you need pre-booked tickets. I had them on my phone and showed them to security when you were distracted. I booked them two days in advance because I knew we would meet and … shit. I just wanted to ask you to be my friend, I guess." Yuri doesn't know what confuses him more, the planning of their outing, or the sheer amount of words that just came from Otabek. But it doesn't stop there. "I looked up when the sun would set. Booked tickets for that time slot. You can only stay 30 minutes, you know? I … I even rehearsed the speech. Because I was scared I would fuck up with my idol in front of me and only thirty minutes to go." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kisses Yuri's head again. The latter is still reeling, trying to understand all the new information. "You … pre-planned that?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. And I wanted to ask you in the hotel lobby but … Jean decided to be a jackass, and I figured you weren't in the mood for a romantic getaway with a stranger. I wanted to give up, but then I saw the witch hunt the Angels set up. So, of course I wanted to help." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is too much at once. "How did you know?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek shrugs and kisses him again. "I'm a fan, Yura. I follow them." And if </span>
  <em>
    <span>that's</span>
  </em>
  <span> not a kick in Yuri's gut. It makes Otabek almost sound stalkerish, but … the whole thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of cute and romantic, especially now that Yuri knows how much effort it took. "Did you never wonder why I had a second helmet with me?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. No, not really. It was a rental bike, and Otabek preferred solitude. Still, he had a second helmet, and Yuri never stopped to think about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another giggle right next to his ear and Yuri tenses. Not with anger, surprisingly, but with something that rearranges his guts in a flurry of hot and cold emotions. How has he never noticed how much effort Otabek put into this? Into him?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know, I'm just glad I confessed. I'm happy it worked out, and now I have you with me. Because I have no idea how I would handle all of this without you." He's so soft, so sincere, it hurts. Yuri leans up and smiles. His best friend cares about him. Really cares about him. Always has. But before he can add something, the door opens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek's family walks in on them, cuddling on the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This isn't how it was supposed to go. His mother stops, hesitates, then slowly steps forward. The room is suddenly at least two degrees colder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What … is going on?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it's not like Yuri doesn't like Otabek's family. He is close to the Altin's, as close as you can be to the parents of your best friend without being invasive … But this is new. Obviously. And it confuses the family as much as it confuses Yuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only one looking kind of smug and somewhat proud is, surprisingly, Otabek himself. He tightens his hold on Yuri. "Hi, everyone." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to squirm out of it, wants to make a run for it, wants to leave, but he can't. Not like that. Not with Otabek holding on to him as if Yuri actually means something to him that's more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It must be so confusing to wake up and have feelings that aren't his own. But Yuri will help him figure it out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, mama Altin dares to speak. "Is there … something we need to know about?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek shrugs, gives her a challenging look that Yuri doesn't understand. His family has been nothing but supportive. Ever. And she didn't even say anything mean. "I don't know. Is there?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They speak Russian, so Yuri is addressed, too. Or they are polite, he can't be sure. The Altins are always very polite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No ma'am, we are just—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Boys being boys?" She gives him a tight-lipped smile, and Yuri is ready to crawl out of bed and bury the conversation right then and there. But Otabek … Otabek isn't. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, he tightens his arms, keeps Yuri in place even though he would give his pinky finger to flee. He can't offer an arm and a leg, he needs those for skating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Actually—" Yuri pinches his side. He gives his supposed lover a very pointed look. If the Altins notice, they don't comment on it. "—Actually, yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri breathes a sigh of relief, silently, not out loud, or he would risk the entire peace they just offered again. The family looks confused but more relaxed. Otabek feels stiff against his body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's when Yakov enters and gives everyone a panicked glance, doing his formidable part of de-escalating and making it look casual. Just boys being boys. Who doesn't cuddle his best friend? In a hospital bed. Pressed to his chest like a teddy bear. Clouded in suspicious silence and awkward glances. Nothing to see here, please carry on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yakov has the mind to ask them in English if they need a moment. He jumps a little when Otabek's father tells him</span>
  <em>
    <span>, 'I think that would be best,'</span>
  </em>
  <span> his accent almost unnoticeable. Even Otabek flinches at how awkward this is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are alone shortly after. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> was that?!" Yuri sits up and stares at Otabek, but the scenery can't keep him angry enough, so he drops back down. Seeing his best friend in a hospital bed, gauze around his head, cords poking from his arms … Yuri isn't hardened enough for that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What do you mean? They act like we’ve never done this before." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We haven’t!" He's hissing, trying to keep his voice down. The popcorn texture of the ceiling is so fucking interesting right now. Yuri can't tear his gaze away. And there, a tiny spider. So much better than looking his best friend in the eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's convenient that Otabek is quiet and leaves him to his observations for a moment. Then, Yuri realizes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>'quiet'</span>
  </em>
  <span> is probably bad right now since they should be talking and all that nonsense. He dares to look over, and his worries are confirmed. Otabek looks confused, angry, hurt. Fuck. "Listen—"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why didn't I tell them?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because there is nothing to tell. They are best friends. Otabek's family knows that. Sends him birthday wishes and flowers for important golds. But he isn't their lost son-in-law. Yuri needs a convincing lie. He needs Yakov, but tough luck; Yakov is currently dealing with the other half of the dumpster fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We didn't tell anyone." That's nothing new. Maybe it helps. At least it won't contradict anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You said team Russia knows." Yeah. He did say that. Because he had to run his mouth in front of everyone when the paramedics came. "How come you told Georgi, but I didn't tell my parents?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What the fuck is a likely scenario for this? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They found out about us. Viktor did some digging. But it —" and then he has a brilliant idea. "It's all so new. You weren't ready to be out yet. I wasn't, either. My grandpa doesn't know, still." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That should shift things into perspective, right? But instead, Otabek looks more confused. "Nikolai doesn't know?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And of course, there is the immediate question to answer, but … "You remember his name?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek looks confused, too. Surprised, even. It's as if he just realized they spoke Russian the entire time, not Kazakh. Nothing you focus on, but once it's mentioned, it feels foreign. Like a hair on your tongue. Yuri knows the feeling, can sympathize with what his best friend is probably going through right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets a nod in response. "Apparently, I can." Then, his brain shifts back into gear, and he looks at Yuri. "Nikolai doesn't know?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." He can't make himself elaborate. It's hard enough to say this as it is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And Yakov does?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Team Russia." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek nods. "That's why he lets us share hotel rooms and hospital beds?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. No, that's not why. That's probably the exact opposite of what Yakov would allow. If they were actually dating. "Yes." Fuck, lying to his best friend feels terrible. And it's been nothing but lies. He's falling deeper and deeper. Yuri has to salvage this somehow. "And no. We already shared when we were only best friends." One truth at a time. Yuri tries to tell himself this is progress. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opens, and a nurse looks around the corner. Yuri shakes his head no, pleads with his eyes for her to leave, and Fortuna is kind because she actually does. A small sigh of relief. They have a bit more time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the telltale </span>
  <em>
    <span>'click'</span>
  </em>
  <span> promises exclusivity again, Otabek begins once more. "I … didn't confess to you in Barcelona?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No. I mean, you asked to be my friend. That was epic. So fucking cool. You told me I have the eyes of a soldier and stuff. But … this entire dating thing … it's quite new." Otabek will be shocked if he ever finds out just </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> new it is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods. "Oh. Okay. I can't remember." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's his chance. Yuri brushes his thumb over Otabek's cheek and smiles carefully. "Take your time. Don't push for it. Let the memories return naturally to you." He heard that on TV once. It sounded pleasant. Comforting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seems to work. Otabek nods. "Okay." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay." </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>First and Foremost: You all were on FIRE with all those comments, thank you so much! I'm glad you like the concept so far! What do you say, now that we know a bit more about the situation? Otabek discovers some memories and Yuri learns just how much work went into all of their Barcelona date. They share an 'I love you', Otabek's family arrives, and Yakov kind of rescues them.</p><blockquote class="userstuff">
  <p>Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor, and also, to you as the reader.<br/>I'm also on<br/><a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free">Tumblr</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/">, Instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/venom_for_free">Twitter</a></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Recap Chapter 2:<br/>They share their first „I love you”. Otabek has some memories from the past and he confuses friendship with love in those scenes. Yuri struggles to tell him the truth. Eventually, Otabek’s family arrives and finds them cuddling on the bed. It is awkward, but Yakov rescues them and takes Beka’s family to the side. Otabek wants to know why Yuri’s rink mates know, but not his family, so Yuri tries to come up with some helpful lie. He admits to Otabek that he did not confess in Barcelona and convinces him to take it slowly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They are discharged an hour later. Or more precisely, Otabek is. His scans are all unproblematic, nothing to be worried about. That's what they tell them, but Yuri is still concerned. By now, he's not sure what would be worse; Otabek losing his memory for good, or Otabek learning about his betrayal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The most terrible thing is, Yuri didn’t do it to fuck with him or to mock him or whatever. He did it so he could stay with his best friend. His only real friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And another thing keeps coming up in the circus manege that is his mind now. Are Otabek's feelings real? Has he always had them? Why did he never tell Yuri? And if they aren't real, will he be able to forget them when he learns that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>aren't</span>
  </em>
  <span> really dating? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's fucked up. They are fucked up, no matter how he puts it. Yuri is so deep in his thoughts, he doesn't even realize Otabek's family stopped asking weird questions. He doesn't realize until the taxis stop in front of Lilia's apartment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek looks a little lost. So he doesn't remember the place. Though, it would have surprised Yuri if he had. Otabek only visited once before his summer in Saint Petersburg. They climb out of the car and into the summer rain that captured the city. Yuri barely noticed it started to pour while they were in the car, but now he's soaked in seconds. And even though it's summer, he's shivering almost immediately. It's not even that cold. He's just incredibly stressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek hugs him to his chest, and Yuri follows the movements without thinking. It surprises him with how much ease he can slip into this dangerous fantasy. They aren't dating. They aren't a couple. Otabek shouldn't warm him against the rain. Yuri knows because he can see it on the faces of his best friend's family. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His</span>
  </em>
  <span> family, to some degree. The message is clear. Best friends don't hug like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Yuri is a little repulsed by the confusion on the face of Otabek's father. Even if it was real and they were dating, would it be that terrible? Yuri understands their son like no one else, understands what meal plans, constant traveling, stage fright, and national responsibility mean. What they can do to you when they take over your life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets startled out of his thoughts when Yuri notices the gentle smile Otabek's mother reserved for them, like some secret Christmas gift. It says </span>
  <em>
    <span>'finally'</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>'you look good together' </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>'why didn't you tell us earlier,'</span>
  </em>
  <span> all in one expression. Did Yakov tell them anything? If yes, what? Shit, this is all so confusing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek takes his hand before Yuri can further analyze how to behave. Arystan looks like he wants to say something, but Dinara elbows him and nods into their direction, urging them on. Well, then. Yuri doesn't even wonder where Otabek's sisters are until his parents, Yakov and the two of them all slide into the dining chairs at Lilia's ridiculous, grande table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She brings out food that looks home-cooked and plentiful, but Yuri knows it's not. Lilia is a terrible cook when it comes to more than porridge and salad. She wouldn't even know how to make something so rich. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek is frowning at the plates, too. It can't be a memory. They haven't eaten anything like this together. Ever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's … terrible for our diet." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinara gives him a scolding look as if she can't believe he would think about his diet right now. There's still gauze around his head, Otabek doesn't even remember half of his life, but he can't wait to get back in shape. Typical. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri can't quite wrestle down the grin. It's ridiculous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yakov eyes him with a silent warning. He's red already, even though they said nothing and dinner just started. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You aren't going to skate for the rest of the season." There it is. Arystan gives him a hard look. For a moment, Yuri doesn't understand how Otabek is so calm, then he gets his answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The season is over, anyway." It's true, they are in the off-season, but Yuri doubts that's what Otabek's father meant. And his grim suspicion is quickly confirmed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> season." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The atmosphere is tense enough to potentially cut it with a knife. Yuri is half tempted to try, but the other half of him wants to run and hide, even though he's not a coward by any means. It's just … a lot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, it's quiet. He reaches beneath the table and squeezes Otabek's leg. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay calm. Let him talk. Make informed choices. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuri can't believe it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> who's trying to convey all those things, but the last few years really tamed him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek is tense under his touch, muscles tightening further and further until Yuri is afraid they will snap. Only then does Otabek talk again. "It's not your decision." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bold, Yuri has to admit. Otabek isn't a minor, hasn't been for a few years. He has his own career and can make his own choices. But none of them can be sure how much of that is salvageable. Even if the injury itself won't knock Otabek out, fear and trauma might. Or his memory loss. Does he even remember all the jumps and spins he’s practiced? Yuri is nauseous. He doesn't even realize the conversation went on without him. Somehow, Otabek is sitting next to him, silent now, and radiating anger. Yuri squeezes his leg again, and a big hand falls on top of it, keeping him there. Reassuring them both. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They poke around their food. The hospital should have left them starving, but Otabek refuses to acknowledge the possibility of breaking his meal plan. Yuri shows solidarity, even though his stomach grumbles almost violently at the sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a while, the elders chat. There is some familiarity between them Yuri never noticed, but years of friendship might do that to your … no. Yakov and Lilia aren't his parents. For the first time, Yuri realizes he's sitting in the middle of a family dinner with his supposed in-laws and one-half of the people who decided they are his parents now. Whether he wants them or not. The thought freaks him out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Good thing Viktor and Katsuki aren't here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the dinner is finally over, Yuri jumps out of his chair. He barely touched his food, which is uncommon for him. Otabek is on his heels, and they both leave with nothing but waves and stammered excuses. Yuri would like to be alone, but he has no idea what will happen now with Otabek following him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they are back in his room, the door is closed with a little more force than necessary. Otabek still seems to fume. The worst thing is, Yuri can see it. Not just because he learned to read the impassive mask that is his best friend's face, but because Otabek is actually displaying his emotions on his features right now. It's a weird thing to see. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He's on Yuri in a heartbeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are suddenly caught in a tight hug. Otabek's hands rest low, pulling Yuri in around the small of his back, and there are warm, soft lips on his. It's as if Otabek brought the summer heat from Kazakhstan to Moskow. Yuri kisses back because what else can he do? His arms wrap around Otabek's neck in return, hold him close, even though Yuri doesn't have to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts out as chaste as in the hospital; closed-mouth kisses placed square on each other's lips, demanding but not forcing. Then Yuri startles when there's suddenly a tongue tracing the seam of his lips, begging for entry. Otabek chuckles. The grip on his back pulls him in tighter. The combination of everything happening at once causes Yuri to gasp, but that might have been a mistake because there is the tip of a tongue pressed to his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's not as messy as Yuri imagined French kissing. It's not full of slobber, it's not a rough shoving or pushing and pulling. There's no biting, no fighting for power. The tips of their tongues keep touching, again and again. That's it. A kind and gentle dance. It's an exploration, a careful greeting. It makes him draw up his shoulders, curl his toes, bury his nails in the short hair of Otabek's undercut. To Yuri's endless mortification, he catches himself moaning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's quiet. Almost silent. The tiniest noise in the back of his throat where the burning starts and travels, down, down, down, across his constricted chest and into Yuri's curling guts, where it cuts him open and, bleeds him out. If </span>
  <em>
    <span>that's </span>
  </em>
  <span>what </span>
  <em>
    <span>kissing</span>
  </em>
  <span> feels like, he suddenly understands the French and the small death they like to talk about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek doesn't allow him to think that </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> he managed to hide his little noise well enough. He chuckles, the bastard, and pushes more of his tongue into Yuri's mouth. It licks Yuri's own for a second, then it's gone. Their mouths close with almost obscene sounds, and the kiss is over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri regains some of his bearings, but then he pries his eyes back open. When had he even closed them? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus, Plisetsky.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He is confronted with deep brown eyes. And it's dumb. Because he knows what Otabek looks like. He knows the shade of his eyes, his skin, his hair. But everything is suddenly different. Mila once told him that mantis shrimp had twelve to sixteen photoreceptors, and humans had three. So the sea creatures can see millions of colors mammals can't even perceive. He rolled his eyes and left because why would he want to learn about some animal seeing things he can't? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now, it's different. Now, he's his own mantis shrimp because when Otabek's eyes used to be brown, they are now sepia-colored, darker around the outside, freckled with specs of gold that belong in a museum. They are confident and driven. He sees gentleness and loyalty, trust and calmness and something he doesn't dare name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek shouldn't glow like that. He was discharged from a hospital only hours ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Has he always been so handsome? Yuri struggles to believe that. He couldn't have missed all those tiny things all those years. Right? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he should leave, and fast, before he does something really dumb, like kiss his best friend again. If Otabek initiates, it's okay he tells himself, but Yuri can't actively do that to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're burning up. Do you have a fever?" Yuri raises one hand to touch it to Otabek's forehead, but it is stolen, Otabek kissing all over it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine, zhanym." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri blushes. Hard. He has heard Otabek use that word a lot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'My soul,'</span>
  </em>
  <span> a Kazakh term of endearment that can be used for everything. Otabek called his phone </span>
  <em>
    <span>'zhanym'</span>
  </em>
  <span> a few times. A dish in a nice restaurant. His mother and his sisters. The medals around his neck and his favorite chocolate when they broke their diet. It's not uncommon by any means, which is why Yuri knows what it means. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that makes it uncommon. Because despite everything, Otabek has never called </span>
  <em>
    <span>him 'zhanym.'</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that could be a problem because now Yuri is melting. He would like to blame it on the summer heat, but he can't. Yuri Plisetsky is a puddle of goo now. This is how he dies. Killed by his best friend being adorable. Fuck his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He needs to leave, has to run away. But he can't really go. He wants to stay close in case Otabek needs anything. Even if it's just a friend. Yuri doesn't allow himself to think about him wanting a lover. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll be right back." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's gone before Otabek can protest, runs through the rooms between his own and the kitchen. Yuri ignores their families and dives into the freezer. There are home-made popsicles in there, water with a hint of lemon—an athlete's delight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With two servings, he returns to his room. Otabek is on the bed, stretched out, and an arm thrown over his eyes. Yuri clears his throat, then hands over the popsicle. The sun is surprisingly relentless now, so he pulls the curtains shut. Otabek hisses in delight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What would I do without you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Probably skate just fine in a Kazakh rink." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's not your fault I got into an accident." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How would you know? You don't remember a fucking thing." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek snorts, somehow amused. "Did you do anything naughty to distract me?" And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yuri isn't ready for that accusation. He's so desperate not to answer, he bites off too much and freezes his brain. The pain is temporary but harsh. Otabek laughs at him. "I'll take that as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>'yes.'</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I didn't do anything! You weren't even looking at me!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's unfair how much Otabek's expression softens. He gives Yuri another kiss. "I'm always looking at you. I've been looking at you since the day we met." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And fuck, it's only been twenty minutes, but Yuri is already breaking his own rules because he's kissing Otabek. He can't even force up the morality to feel bad about it because it is so fucking nice. But Yuri can't handle how sappy Otabek is. He can't handle how openly he displays it, or how much he trusts Yuri with his heart. He can't handle that apparently, his best friend had feelings for him since they were children and that he only knows now because Yuri lied to everyone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's too much. It's all too much. So he closes his eyes and drowns out the world with lemony kisses and soft touches along sweaty skin.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay. That was a lot going on. Otabek was discharged and Yuri is worried. There is a family dinner they run away from.<br/>And oh boy, Yuri kissed him first. Are you as excited as I am? And as worried?<br/>Let me know what you think!</p><blockquote class="userstuff">
  <p>Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor, and also, to you as the reader.<br/>I'm also on<br/><a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free">Tumblr</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/">, Instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/venom_for_free">Twitter</a></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Recap Chapter 3<br/>Otabek is discharged and Yuri wonders if his betrayal will ever be forgotten. They are dropped off at Lilia’s with Beka’s family in tow. They eat together. Otabeks family tries to convince him to give up skating for the new season. Yuri and he flee to Yuri’s room, where they make out. Yuri does his best to ease the tension between them, but Beka is sugary sweet and so Yuri ends up kissing him first.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yuri wakes when Lilia pounds against his door, calling them for dinner. Or rather, she knocks like a normal person, but Yuri is so used to the brush of her knuckles whispering over wood, the sound startles him awake nonetheless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's bundled up in Otabek's arms. The latter is still sleeping, and oh fuck, he looks so peaceful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They woke next to each other a dozen times. Yuri has seen the tousled top of his undercut, he knows the small, sleep laden eyes that blink at him in the morning when Otabek isn't quite ready to get up while Yuri is already buzzing with seemingly endless energy. Yuri has seen the stubble across his cheeks. So why does he want to touch now? He never wanted to touch before. But the long strands on top of his head need to be finger-combed, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. The hair dusting his best friend's cheeks will catch against Yuri's fingertips, he knows. But where does the overwhelming urge to try come from? Those lips, slightly open, soft and a little too dry, beg to be kissed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri only realizes that he's in too deep when Lilia knocks again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Coming!" Yuri is regretful of his loud voice when he sees Otabek startle awake next to him. "Oh, sorry. Hi …" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hi …" He stretches, causing his shirt to ride up even further. Yuri stares at the defined abs beneath. When he raises his eyes, Otabek is grinning. "Like what you see?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it's so direct. It's a punch in his guts because </span>
  <em>
    <span>does Yuri like what he sees? Hell yes. Should he? Who knows. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He nods anyway, and the lips he thought about kissing just seconds before are on him already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can touch. You know that, right?" Their foreheads are pressed together, and Otabek smiles gently. Yuri didn’t know. How should he know? It's not exactly normal to touch your best friend's abs and at the end of the day, that's what they are, isn't it? Or maybe not anymore. He rests a flat palm over the taut muscles. It's good. And Otabek smiles. "You touch me like I'm made of glass." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri can't exactly tell him that it's because he's afraid </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> will burst, right? There's already pink heat in his cheeks as it is, firing his head up and boiling his brain into mush that would probably drip out if he tilted his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's still pretty new." That wasn't a lie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Otabek flexes beneath Yuri's palm, and the tingling it causes low in Yuri's stomach is unfair, unfair, </span>
  <em>
    <span>unfair</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "And does it feel okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri is breathless, but not answering means losing to his best friend, and he refuses to do that. "It feels good."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?" Yuri is positive he has </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> seen Otabek look that smug. Otabek shouldn't be </span>
  <em>
    <span>able</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look that smug. His face is supposed to be unmoving, an ever stoic mask. But he's so open with Yuri. He's the knife in Yuri's gut. The shard of glass in his fingertips. The splinter of wood trapped in the soft skin of his toes. The—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"YURI PLISETSKY. OTABEK ALTIN." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The reason Yuri ignored Lilia long enough for her to raise her voice. They both all but scrambled out of bed. It's not worth dealing with an angry Lilia. Nothing is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within the next hour, they have another awkward meal, a lot of awkward eye-contact, and an even bigger mountain of awkward silence. Until it isn't silent anymore because Otabek has to open his big, dumb mouth. There is not even a discussion, nothing leading up to it, no climax or yelling, or any reason but stubbornness that makes him blurt it out. Yet here they are. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ana, äke, I'm dating Yuri." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Yuri feels like he's falling off his chair. He's ready to crawl under the table and hide, so maybe he should have followed that first impulse, but he was too slow, and now Dinara is pinning him to his chair with her intense gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Is that so?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's suddenly at least 10 degrees warmer, the whole room is reduced to the table, four adults, two … shit, Otabek and him are adults, too, aren't they? Yuri tries to straighten his back. He's eighteen now. Fourteen-year-old Yuri would already be yelling at this point, kicking if he felt like he had to, but this is too important to fuck it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lilia doesn't gasp, and Yakov looks cool as a cucumber, too, so they might have had that talk already. But when Yuri forces himself to look into Dinara's eyes, it feels like someone grabbed his spine with an icy hand. Because that woman is smiling. Just a little, carefully hidden in the corners of her otherwise strict eyes, but Yuri can see it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are in on the joke. Of course, they are. Yakov and Lilia had time to prepare them, and Otabek shouldn't be upset in any way, so they must have warned them. He's safe. Yuri's spine warms back up, he straightens out fully and answers with a curt nod. "Yes." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek's hand is on his, squeezing for reassurance. He looks ready to run into a wall and tear it down, but the smile on the faces of his parents becomes clearer every second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why didn't you tell us before, Beka?" Arystan shakes his head. "You know we love Yuri. We would have supported you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can still support them," Yakov reminds. "They still need every gentle voice they can get. And they need help to keep it a secret. We don't want to make it look like career-furthering rumors. It's not meant to look like a PR stunt for good publicity during the off-season." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Altins nod eagerly. "Whatever you need."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri feels a giant boulder drop from his shoulders. They will help. They will keep Otabek safe. They will protect the act. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the next half an hour, they plan a coming out Yuri never thought he wanted or needed. But Otabek looks so happy, so relieved. It must have been painful for him, the thought that he hides something as important as their relationship from his parents. Yuri can't help smiling when he understands his worth in Otabek's eyes. Then, he realizes that all of their trust and friendship will soon go down the drain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's not only that Yuri lied to him now. Yuri also lied to the other skaters, to his coaches, to Otabek's parents. He stares at their joined hands, now interlocked on top of the table, and the bone-deep chilling sensation returns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek is exhausted. Yuri recognizes the struggle with which he tries to keep his eyes open. "Come on. Let's go to bed." It's not a question which bed, or if they go on their own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arystan nods at them, smiles knowingly. It feels wrong. "Good night, boys. And remember, be careful with Beka's head." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri is still trying to figure out what them going to bed has to do with Otabek's head when Dinara grabs his arm and pulls him to the side. "I'll need a glass of water. Please Yuri, help me get one." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's a terrible excuse. There are water bottles on the table. But he can't upset Otabek, and fighting with his mother would definitely do so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they are in the kitchen, Dinara hugs him. It's drawn out, weirdly intimate. "Thank you so much, Yura." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You aren't angry?" He has to make sure it is a big lie after all, and Yuri can't know yet how Otabek will recover from it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course not. Sure, I would have wished for you to talk to me earlier, but …" He couldn't have done that, or their act would have blown up into their faces and—"Arystan and I always thought you had amazing chemistry. We suspected there to be more for a while, but we never dared to ask. I'm just worried Beka had to suffer a head wound to feel comfortable telling us. As if you boys haven't been sleeping in the same bed for years, as if we would be scandalized. Yura. We support you fully, okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And his world is spinning again. Faster now, even faster than at the table when he almost fell from his chair. Dinara kisses his cheek and hurries off towards the living room, ignorant of the fact that she hasn't even gotten a glass of water. Yuri stands and stares at the empty door frame until Lilia's lean silhouette fills it again. She rushes in and takes Yuri's hand. The touch grounds him, slams him from his free-floating position over their heads back into his body with the force of a sledgehammer, and Yuri has to strain his mind to grasp the words already raining down on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry, Yuri. We wanted to tell them, but we didn't have an opportunity yet!" It's uncharacteristic for Lilia to say sorry even once. Usually, she's perfect in everything she does. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So we … literally came out to his parents right now?!" Lilia nods with an untypically pained expression. "You have to fix that!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head, looking almost like a robot answering simple commands. But her usually strict, cold eyes are filled with emotions that look almost threatening. "I'm so sorry, Yura, but they already left. Had to catch a train to their hotel." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How long has he been standing in the kitchen? His question gets shoved aside when Otabek politely works his way to Yuri's side. "Wanna go?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One last pleading expression at Lilia, then he's gently dragged from the kitchen. Back to their room. Their bed. Their intimacy. Yuri hates how much he wants this because now he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knows what could have been if life was less cruel, and they found their way into each other's arms naturally. He's pulled onto Otabek's chest, wrapped in a bear hug, and has to hold back tears. Because his best friend is in love with him, and apparently he's in love with his best friend, too. But it's too late, and everything is ruined. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri wakes to something he knew existed, technically, but never really made an appearance in his mind, much less his physical presence. But there it is, prominent against his butt, poking in a way that makes him question his moralities. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How wrong would it be to grind against his best friend? When he's hard and sleeping, and also under the assumption that they are dating? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Terribly wrong, thank you very much. He was asking for a friend, anyway. Yuri squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again, but for some reason, nothing about their position has changed. He's still trapped in Otabek's vice-like embrace, pressed against the broad chest Yuri always pitied from a skater's point of view and always admired from the perspective of a man loving other men. Otabek might be short, but he's still one of the manliest guys Yuri ever encountered, and holy shit—he has to stop thinking about that. Feeling it is enough to make his mind sputter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But his attempted resistance is futile. Because even if he canters his hips away, Otabek oozes strength and masculinity. It's in the way he holds Yuri, the way he smells, the way he walks and talks and dresses and opens doors and drives his bike and—for the first time, Yuri realizes it is not his image of masculinity that describes Otabek, but it's Otabek who formed it in the first place. It's his undercut and the strong jaw and the full brows. It's the large hands and the stubble and the commanding energy he uses to propel himself into a jump. It's the carefulness with which he pets Potya, greets his sisters, sews a sequin back on when it falls off. It's his body and his personality, his smile. When he smiles. If he smiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And if Yuri wasn't sure yesterday, he knows now. It wasn't a fever dream. It wasn't sleep-induced uncertainty. It wasn't midnight feelings, conjured by a fairy light moon and muscular arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's all real, and Yuri is in love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The realization is Earth-shattering as much as it is obvious. Everything changes, and nothing does. But a lot of things make more sense now. Like all the frustrating random erections he got in locker rooms, but only during specific competitions. All the nights, they spent hiding away from the world. How good it feels to touch Otabek even though he hates touching anyone else. And, maybe that's a little obvious, but … why the rumor mill about them never bothered Yuri, even though he hates the press. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From one moment to another, he has to think about the fanart he sent Otabek. The drawings of them cuddling at the beach. One time even a fanfic. And yes, it was about the disgusting couple. They were just background characters, but they were a couple, too. Back then, Yuri didn't think about it because he liked the sarcastic characterization of Viktor and Katsuki too much, but now … </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri turns and stares at his best friend. The man who didn’t blink an eye when Yuri proclaimed they were dating. Who remembers him from their past, even if Yuri can't. Who treasures glimpses of their life together that don't really exist. And who insisted on telling his parents about them, even though he has no memory of it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Otabek has been in love with him back then … has Yuri been cruel to present him with those things? Maybe that's why he rarely laughed about the flaws Yuri liked to point out. Maybe that's why he stopped talking to Yuri for almost a week when he sent Otabek a drawing of them kissing, picked apart with the humor of someone who was forced into the public eye as a child. Back then, Otabek gave him a lecture about treasuring the effort your fans put into you, but now Yuri wonders if it was something else. Fuck, if only he could find that picture again and look at it once more, now with the eyes of someone who knows what he feels. Who actually kissed his best friend. He's simultaneously glad he didn't save it and incredibly sad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The idea of mental proximity just amplifies the physical closeness they are in. God, the fangirls would love this. In fact … Yuri decides to dig, if only to distract himself from something he can't reasonably try to take his mind off of, doesn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to take his mind off of. But he already decided it's unethical, so he won't grind against the teasing sensation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He googles </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Otabek Altin and Yuri Plisetsky.' </span>
  </em>
  <span>There's a bunch of podium pictures, some newspaper articles, some fan blogs. They look cute together, he has to admit. But it's not what he is looking for. So Yuri risks changing his search. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Otabek Altin Yuri Plisetsky kiss'</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ends up finding photo edits, drawings, something called AMVs, and almost wakes Otabek when Yuri clicks on a video link because </span>
  <em>
    <span>how do these people have video footage of them kissing if it hasn't happened until yesterday? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Turns out they don't, and it's just a bunch of manipulated pictures in a slide show. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some of them are trash. Some of them look convincing enough for Yuri to do a double-take and wonder what actually happened in those moments. That's where he learns there is a designated hashtag for them—# Otayuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bites his lip and clicks on it. What then proceeds to unfold in front of him makes him forget what lies behind him, literally. When Otabek wakes almost two hours later, he's still scrolling through the hashtag, reading comments, short stories, fan proclamations. Yuri learned what shipping means and what slash fiction is, even though he hasn't read anything of that yet. He stared at more pictures of them than is good for his mental health. And he knows now they have supporters all around the globe. Not just for them individually, but for them as a couple as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After all the things he has seen in the last few hours, the kisses across his neck feel almost natural. Only when gentle fingertips meet spiky, buzzed hair does he realize that </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> he should tone it down a little. He's far too enthusiastic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Otabek keeps kissing his neck, trails large, calloused hands up and down Yuri's body. They slept in boxer shorts and nothing else next to each other at least a dozen times, but it's different now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Different because Otabek is pressed to his back, hold his hips, squeezes them. Then, he arches his back, doesn't hide his arousal, but emphasizes it, and Yuri is lightheaded. He can't react, or the spell will be broken. So he lets Otabek </span>
  <em>
    <span>'stretch'</span>
  </em>
  <span> himself, and because Yuri is weak, he follows the movement and chases the touch once or twice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good morning, zhanym." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good morning. How are you feeling?" He doesn't dare to use a pet name, not yet. Not after all the things he's been reading. It makes slipping up too easy. Otabek inhales deeply behind him, and Yuri understands a second later that he's scenting the honey shampoo. Yuri can't fight the smile that creeps on his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm feeling good. My head still hurts a little, but what is a wound compared to being able to wake up next to you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A splayed palm on Yuri's abdomen, burning hot coals into his muscles. Otabek's thumb traces the dips between his abs, barely noticeable for the unassuming eye. Yuri knows if he turns now, he will find valleys of muscles behind him. Otabek is so packed, he regularly has to lose some, or he's too heavy for high jumps. Yuri doesn't turn. It's already hot and heavy enough between them, even without Yuri adding to the fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does raise his head for a kiss, though. He leans back, allowing their lips to meet in the middle. Gentle. No urgency, no rush, as if they have been doing this for years. As if the active seasons don't exist, as if they can waste away their mornings in bed on a regular basis. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't realize Otabek half-leans over him until it's too late. "What are you looking at?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now, Yuri is a little stressed. Should he be honest? But how to explain? </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I'm looking at manips of us kissing because I lost myself in the Otayuri hashtag, something I didn't even know existed until today.' </span>
  </em>
  <span>But Otabek only looks over his shoulder and grins. "Otayuri, huh?" He shamelessly scrolls around on Yuri's phone, takes it all in with almost practiced ease. After a moment of shock, Yuri decides to get his phone back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The doctor said no mobile phones!" Otabek rolls his eyes, smiling in a way Yuri rarely ever saw before, and hands him the phone. "It's so weird, seeing all of those and not knowing which of them are real and which are fan-made." That's when it strikes him like lightning. Otabek isn't aware of the situation. And Yuri is left with two options. Either being honest and telling him that none of them are real. After all, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>'aren't officially out yet.'</span>
  </em>
  <span> Or picking out the cutest ones and making up stories to go along.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he can make a decision, Lilia announces breakfast and the arrival of Otabek's parents.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>SOOOOO we have Yuri struggling with morning cuteness, an unplanned coming out and ... fanfiction. <br/>How are y'all holding up? A lot of you guys reported being anxious. Is it better or worse now?</p><blockquote class="userstuff">
  <p>Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor, and also, to you as the reader.<br/>I'm also on<br/><a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free">Tumblr</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/">, Instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/venom_for_free">Twitter</a></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Recap Chapter 4: Yuri wakes next to Otabek and struggles a lot with how kissable he is. They get closer for a bit, but Lilia screams them out of bed. They later eat with Beka’s family, when Otabek decides it is a good idea to inform his parents about their relationship. They are supportive and quite happy for them and for a moment Yuri thinks it’s going to be okay, but then he remembers it is all just a show. As it turns out, the Altins did not know that. Yuri wants to tell them, but they are already gone. The next morning when they wake, Yuri has to admit to himself that he is indeed in love with Beka. To take his mind off the situation, Yuri begins to google and falls down the rabbit hole of shipping. Otabek finds out and shows interest in pictures of them.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When things go to shit, there is precisely one person Yuri can turn to. But his grandfather is in Moscow, and somehow Yuri suspects he wouldn't be too amused by Yuri's story about the Altin boy and their sudden romance. </p><p> </p><p>So he has to make do with his second-best option. </p><p> </p><p>"Where is he right now?" Mila puts two milkshakes in front of them. Two for each of them. How she managed to carry all of them securely to their table, Yuri has no idea. </p><p> </p><p>"He's out with his parents and Lilia. They are going through Saint Petersburg, hoping it will bring memories of the last few days back." </p><p> </p><p>"Are there any memories to bring back?" Yuri nods. Of course they are. Otabek has been here for a few days, after all. "And between you?" </p><p> </p><p>This time, Yuri leans forward, hides his warming face behind his hoodie. "What do you think, baba?" </p><p> </p><p>"I think I'm not sure if that whole <em> 'He's my boyfriend, let me through!' </em>-stunt was a spur of the moment decision. You sounded convincing enough." Mila has the audacity to grin. "You know, if you don't want him—" </p><p> </p><p>"No!" Yuri realizes too late it was a trap. He tries to salvage what he can. "I don't want to stress him more." </p><p> </p><p>"Okay. But after this? When you tell Altin you're only his little side-line cheerleader and that nothing is going on between you except cold showers, too long stares, and midnight phone calls … when all of that is in the open …" </p><p> </p><p>"Don't you dare." He's beyond pretending to be uninterested. Mila is like a sister to him, but no one likes their siblings stealing their favorite stuff. This is the same feeling but amplified a hundred times. Otabek is more important than every designer piece Yuri owns. Combined. </p><p> </p><p>"So you really got it bad for him, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>"Shut the fuck up. I need help, not dumb taunts. If I wanted useless gurgling, I would have gone to the geezer." </p><p> </p><p>Mila snort-laughs. "And Katsuki?" </p><p> </p><p>"Is married to his fucking idol after forgetting him for months. How do you think he would be helpful?" </p><p> </p><p>"How do you think he wouldn't?" </p><p> </p><p>Yuri is bored with her non-advice, so he kicks her under the table. It's not like it does much. Mila is made of titanium, hard and bitter like uncooked Brussel sprouts. Or maybe not; Lilia won't let him eat them raw. "Give me actual advice." </p><p> </p><p>She grins and leans back, downing half of her milkshake in one go. Yuri says a silent prayer to the gods of the off-season. Mila is always easier to deal with when she's high on sugar and foamed milk. The gears in her head switch visibly after that. "So, what's your dilemma again?" </p><p> </p><p>"I told you." </p><p> </p><p>"Tell me again." </p><p> </p><p>He huffs, but Yuri can admit to himself he needs Mila's advice more than the secret he's about to spill. </p><p> </p><p>"Otabek thinks I'm his boyfriend. But we are just best friends in real life. I had to lie to the guys in the ambulance so they wouldn't throw me out. But when Otabek woke, he thought it was real and kissed me. Shit, Mila. He told me he loves me and has for a while. He's so … happy. He's almost outgoing. And he means it, too. Beka came out to his parents yesterday, told them we are dating. His family was so excited. And the fans, they are—" </p><p> </p><p>"Do you love him?" Mila decides to verbally punch him in the gut. Yuri would have preferred the physical version for fucks sake. That pain would at least fade. </p><p> </p><p>"As a friend, yes, of course, but—" </p><p> </p><p>"Before you reply now," she raises her hand to tell him to wait, then slurps the other half of her shake with the most obnoxious noise possible. He doesn't interrupt her or tell her to hurry. Mila is powerful like that. "Before you give me an answer right now, think about if you're lying to <em> yourself </em>or to me. You love him as a friend, alright, but if that's all, I'm going to drill my claws into that man like a harpy. If half of what you say about him is true, no one on this Earth deserves him. Which means I'm as good a choice as everyone else to date him and—" </p><p> </p><p>"FINE, fucking bitch! Yes. Yes, I like him! As more than just a friend!" Mila grins, but it's not as diabolically as Yuri feared after such a triumph. "Stay away from him. He's in enough trouble. I just … I want him to be okay." </p><p> </p><p>Mila looks surprisingly open now, even takes Yuri's hand, or tries to, because he pulls back immediately and shrinks further into his hoodie. "Then you have your answer. You need to tell him, Yurochka. Be honest with him. Tell him that you lied and why you lied. Tell him he matters to you and what you learned about your feelings and that now you can start from zero, together." </p><p> </p><p>Mila makes it sound so simple, but Yuri doesn't know how he's supposed to do that. An hour later, he walks home with no real answers and two milkshakes, one-half empty, the other untouched for Otabek.</p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>When he opens the door, Potya is the first to greet him. She curls around his legs and yells because Yuri dared not to feed her first thing in the morning. There simply was no time. He had to meet Mila. </p><p> </p><p>But now, his princess is demanding food, and Yuri feels like the worst father, but suddenly there is someone else, curling around him. Much larger than Potya, much warmer. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey there. I brought you a milkshake." Yuri catches himself smiling as he leans into the embrace of his best friend. Boyfriend? He has no idea anymore. </p><p> </p><p>"You're the best." Otabek kisses his neck and <em> fuck </em>, all of Yuri is tingling now. "By the way, Potya is lying to you. Lilia helped me earlier to feed her." Yuri tenses a little, and as a reaction, so does Otabek. "Was that wrong?" </p><p> </p><p>"No. Not at all. Just … did you remember her name?" </p><p> </p><p>Otabek is quiet for a moment, then nods. "It looks like it." </p><p> </p><p>"Lilia didn't tell you?" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't think so." </p><p> </p><p>"Huh." Weird. Otabek remembered the name of his cat, but not that they were supposed to be just friends? </p><p> </p><p>"Not good?" </p><p> </p><p>"Very good. I'm just … surprised you don't remember more about <em> us </em>." </p><p> </p><p>"Why do you think I don't?" Damn. God fucking damn, that's what Yuri gets for being unable to keep his dumb mouth shut. He can hardly tell Otabek <em> 'because you're still kissing me.' </em></p><p> </p><p>So instead, he shrugs. "I don't know. You didn't say anything." </p><p> </p><p>"I mean, I didn't realize I remembered Potya's name either until you pointed it out. It's not like I have big revelations. It's just … the knowledge is suddenly there again? I don't know. Like when you remember a word in English that you struggled with previously?" </p><p> </p><p>Yuri nods. He understands. It kind of makes sense. "So, did you remember something fun about us?" </p><p> </p><p>"I know we went camping last year." </p><p> </p><p>The memory of Almaty during the summer months makes Yuri smile. "Yeah." </p><p> </p><p>"We went to the mountains, right?" Otabek's hands brush over Yuri's forearms. "Shared a tent. Even though I'm sure Lilia wasn't super happy with that?" </p><p> </p><p>Yuri has to chuckle. "That was before we became a couple. She had nothing to fear." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh." Otabek squeezes him. "Well. That's the thing. I still haven't figured out when all … <em> this </em> happened." He gestures between them, then pulls Yuri back into the embrace. </p><p> </p><p>"Your milkshake is melting." </p><p> </p><p>"It's already melted. Stop trying to distract me. Tell me about <em> us </em>." Otabek smiles at him, softening the order a little. Seeing Otabek smile so openly is still a wondrous sight to Yuri. It's too powerful, it should be contained. </p><p> </p><p>Yuri is so distracted that he almost forgets to answer. "I've heard that you shouldn't <em> tell </em> amnesia patients about memories, or it might create false ones." He's not mentioning that his source of information is a TV show Viktor likes too much. </p><p> </p><p>"So you're not telling me when we started dating? Or how it came to that?" Otabek chuckles behind him and kisses his neck once more. Yuri melts against him. </p><p> </p><p>"Nope. I'll protect that secret." He smiles to himself, even though he probably shouldn't. But he turns and kisses Otabek all the same. </p><p> </p><p>Lilia eventually clears her throat, which is when Yuri remembers that she's there, too. And Otabek's parents. Maybe even Yakov. Blood rushes to his face almost immediately. He winds himself out of Otabek's grasp, even though it stings like pulling teeth. Yuri doesn't know how long he'll get to enjoy it after all. </p><p> </p><p>From there, his day is too packed to think. There's off-ice training and on-ice training, like almost every day. But Otabek sitting to the side feels weird. It's apparent that he aches to return to the ice, but that won't happen for a while. The doctors cleared him for light stretching, if he could guarantee there would be no rough movements or vibrations to affect his brain. But that's just not the same, not even in the off-season. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Viktor takes pity on him and helps choreograph Otabek's program, so he isn't entirely out of the loop. But it leaves Yuri with one less trainer, and even though he still has enough without a doubt, Katsuki feels the need to <em> 'help out.'  </em></p><p> </p><p>Their dinner invitation to the new couple feels almost mocking, like a pity party. But Otabek wants to go, so Yuri can't really worm his way out of it. After all, Otabek insists spending time with other skaters helps his memory. Yuri doesn't want to be the asshole working against his healing process.</p><p> </p><p>It's just that he knows Viktor and his antics. So when Otabek is sufficiently distracted by Mila, Yuri makes his way to his former rinkmate. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, old man!" Viktor looks up like a squirrel that heard a nut fall. Attention is his second favorite thing in the world. Yuri grins a little when he notices Yakov turned, too. Instead of yelling across the rink, he makes his way over. Otabek overhearing is a real possibility and the worst-case scenario. "About the dinner tonight. Don't ask any questions about Beka and me, understood?" </p><p> </p><p>Viktor acts offended. <em> Of course </em> , he wouldn't inconvenience Yuri like that. After all, he knows how unstable Otabek is right now. It goes a little too smoothly, so Yuri is aware Viktor probably <em> will </em> do something stupid. He just hopes Katsuki will be sober enough to stop him.</p><p> </p><p> -- </p><p> </p><p>Katsuki is <em> not </em> sober enough to stop him. </p><p> </p><p>No one is sober except for Otabek, who seems almost amused by the chaos around him. That fucker is grinning and everything. </p><p> </p><p>Yuri's head hurts already, it's too fucking loud. He expected a calm, fancy dinner with Katsuki, potentially making Katsudon for all of them. That would have been his best-case scenario. Instead, there are people all around the table because Viktor conveniently forgot to mention he invited the entire Russian team. Including the coaches. </p><p> </p><p>Lilia and Yakov decide to go and walk the Altins, god bless, but that doesn't magically make Georgi or Mila disappear. Or the two younger skaters Viktor took on last year that Yuri still hasn't bothered to learn the names of. It doesn't matter that they are only a few months younger than him. Viktor still refuses to learn what <em> 'JJ' </em> stands for. What matters is the girl is looking a little too much at Otabek. And Yuri had been worried that Mila would be his fiercest competitor.  </p><p> </p><p>So yes, maybe he <em> is </em> a little smug when his newest boyfriend puts an arm around his shoulder during dessert. Maybe Yuri goes the extra mile and kisses him right on the mouth in front of everyone to see her go pale. It's a calculated risk, but Yuri is terrible at math. </p><p> </p><p>What happens are two things. First, the new guy scrunches up his nose and mumbles something about 'not another couple that can't stop making out,' and second, everyone else gasps. Collectively. As if the fuckers practiced for a stage show. Yuri rolls his eyes, and because he's himself, he kisses Otabek again. </p><p> </p><p>The latter has no problem at all with the extra attention. If anything, he starts glowing like a firefly. It's so cute, Yuri kisses him a third time. When the younger boy groans, not unlike Yuri himself whenever Viktor and Katsuki step into each other's proximity, it turns into spite. Tiny kisses on Otabek's cheek, forehead, mouth, even knuckles. </p><p> </p><p>Georgi and Viktor are delighted. They are trying to find out who can squeal louder. Mila is giving him a smug, but warning smile. Katsuki is drinking because of course he is. The younger skaters seem embarrassed, both for different reasons. It almost feels nice. </p><p> </p><p>Yuri forgets it's not real until three hours later when Otabek helps him into his jacket, and Viktor <em> finally </em>caves. "You know, I always knew you two would end up together." It works with the act, so Yuri smiles and nods, but Viktor is swaying dangerously now. He has one hand clasped around the door frame, the other holding the wine bottle Katsuki tried to finish alone. When he points at them, his grip eases so much, the bottle almost falls out. "Wasn't that head injury the best thing that could have happened?" And the dumbfuck smiles. </p><p> </p><p>Yuri is so drunk and happy, he almost agrees, but Otabek's distinctly sober and clear voice pulls him out of the blissful haze. "What? Why?" </p><p> </p><p>"Because … You and Yurochka are now—" </p><p> </p><p>"We can be open about it!" Yuri jumps in, praying to a God he doesn't believe in that Otabek will drop it. </p><p> </p><p>"Noooooo." Viktor has zero ability to understand when to shut the fuck up, but that's an old problem. "Noooooo, it's because you're a couple now!" He points between them and smiles blissfully. "I always knew it would happen. Every time you guys touched, it had this … this energy, you know? It's totally … it's magic." He's slurring, and there is this look in his eyes he usually only gets when he talks to Katsuki. This dumb lovey-dovey expression. It makes Yuri's skin crawl. </p><p> </p><p>Otabek turns to him. Slowly. "I thought Viktor knew?" </p><p> </p><p>And now he's stuck. Yuri did his best not to tell any lies, or at least no big ones, but … now he's stuck between a rock and a hard place because Otabek still managed to expose him. Obviously, another lie isn't really the answer, but it's all Yuri has right now. "It's … it's because he knew before, but now he has actually seen it." He bites his lip, steeling himself for whatever is about to come. </p><p> </p><p>Viktor looks lost, but he can't ruin anything when he shuts up and looks between them like an owl. But then, the catastrophe continues to unfold, and Katsuki stumbles around the corner. He slinks against Viktor and smirks, first at him, then at the two younger men. "Whatcha talking 'bout?" </p><p> </p><p>Maybe, just maybe, if Yuri is quick enough, he can grab Otabek and run. Drag him off into the direction of Lilia's apartment, away from the wasted couple, away from anything that can burst his bubble, but … </p><p> </p><p>"When Vitya said you're a real couple now—" </p><p> </p><p>He doesn't let Katsuki finish. They need to evacuate. Now. "Uuuuh, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Good night, fucking losers. Thanks for dinner. You're a mess." </p><p> </p><p>But Viktor holds Otabek's arm and gives him a long, hard look. He seems serious for a moment, but then his eyes unfocus once more, and they glaze over again with the haze of alcohol, warmth, and love. "Be careful with my Yura, okay? I know it's the off-season, but he'll still need to dance tomorrow and—" </p><p> </p><p>"OH MY GOD, VIKTOR! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" </p><p> </p><p>At least Yuri has a reason to drag his best friend away now. The last thing they need after that confusion is Viktor telling them to bang mindfully. </p><p> </p><p>Yuri's head is heated, half with anger, half with shame. Otabek only blinks at him, then frowns. "Don't worry, sir. I'll take care of him." How is he always the perfect gentleman? Otabek was made in a lab, Yuri is convinced. And what does that even mean, he will <em> take care of him </em>? </p><p> </p><p>Viktor and Katsuki giggle like little kids, hurry deeper into their house, and probably make out in front of God and everyone else. Yuri and Otabek are left standing in the hallway. For a moment, they wait there in silence. Then, they both turn towards the exit. </p><p> </p><p>The way home is silent, even though a hundred voices scream in Yuri's head.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>IT ALWAYS GETS WORSE BEFORE IT GETS BETTER -<br/>Or in other words: Only two more chapters. And I know you are all suffering, but we are SO CLOSE!<br/>Stay strong! </p><p>Opinions on the dinner, though? xD</p><blockquote class="userstuff">
  <p>Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae">Taedae</a>, and also, to you as the reader.<br/>I'm also on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free">Tumblr</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/">, Instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/venom_for_free">Twitter</a></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Recap Chapter 5<br/>Yuri talks to Mila, who openly tells him if he doesn’t want Otabek, she’ll take him. Later she tries to help Yuri work through his confusion. She makes him realize that he needs to talk to Otabek and has to be honest. Otabek meets him at home, remembering Potya’s name and a camping trip. When he asks Yuri to tell him more about them, Yuri refuses. They go to Viktor and Yuri for dinner with the other skaters. Yuri makes out with him because he feels provoked. Viktor exclaims they are a couple now. Yuri runs away when they start accidentally exposing his lies.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"What did you mean when you said you'd take care of me?" The question burned inside of him for a while now. Yuri feels sober, nothing of the delightful haze they built up so freely over dinner remains. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nothing. Just … that I would make sure you get home safely?" They arrive so late, everyone else is in bed already. Yuri takes off his shoes, toes them into a corner. Lilia will scold him in the morning, but that's a price he's willing to pay right now. He needs all of his brain for this conversation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Should Yuri believe him? He's unsure. Uncertainty isn't a nice feeling, so Yuri can relate to Otabek struggling with his entire identity gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But you know what Viktor meant, right?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Actually … I didn't, no." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri turns and looks at him. He didn't? Wait. Was this still about the entire caretaking situation? Or is Otabek talking about … </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What did he mean when he said my head injury was a good thing?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He didn't say </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He said something similar. Now … could you please answer the question?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah. He can. But should he? Yuri is nervous, so he tries to stall. Otabek's hand in his hand, he guides them to his room. It's warm even there. Saint Petersburg had a sunny day, and Yuri is sure it's the weather's fault the entire room seems stuffy. He rips a window open. It's like a bandaid being pulled from a wound; relieving in theory but the process is more than unrewarding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He refills Potya's bowl, waters his plant since he's already at it, and even throws away the candy wrappers he has amassed over the last week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm pretty fucking tired, don't you think—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yura." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fine. Fine, they are going to have this conversation now. Yuri is going to tell him, Otabek is going to blow up, and then they will have been friends for the longest time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It'll all be over in an hour. The thought is disturbing and comforting, both at the same time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slumps down, spreads his legs on the bed and sighs. He knows this is it. Yuri knows he has to tell Otabek now, or—"What are you doing?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He followed Yuri, is now sitting between his legs. Otabek is holding his hips, fingers dangerously low, brushing the curve of Yuri's ass. "I told Viktor I would take care of you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri is stunned into silence, can mentally follow the trail his blood takes when it leaves his face, then returns tenfolds. "What do you … what do you have in mind?" He has to clear his voice after half a sentence. Restarting and forcing those words out again is similar to how Yuri pictures the sensation of drinking acid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek smirks at him. This time, his fingers definitely brush Yuri's ass. "Whatever you want. I don't … I'm afraid I don't really remember what you prefer, so you'll have to coach me through this, but … Yuri. You're amazing. Without you, I would have gone crazy over the last few days. And I know you're tired. But please. Let me do something for you?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is the dumbest fucking situation on Earth because Yuri obviously knows what the right answer is, but his body betrays him. And he's sure he won't get this chance ever again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lilia and the Altins are asleep. No one will walk in. And it doesn't have to be a grand thing, it can be … no. No, it can't be. At all. Otabek is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> aware of what he offers. He doesn't know that he would be Yuri's first, even if it isn't mutual. Otabek traveled the world, he's more experienced than that. Yuri wonders if he remembers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But before he can dive deeper into thought, Otabek stops feeling him up. Instead, he looks at Yuri, a stern expression on his face where previously a playful smile has been. "You don't want this." He leans back, pulls his arms away as if he was burned, and Yuri hates himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why can't he just tell him? It would hurt so much less. "That's … that's not it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His best friend turned boyfriend shakes his head. "Whatever it is. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that isn't it. Yuri isn't uncomfortable. Or at least, not because of Otabek. "No. No, no, Beka. Please." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek misunderstands and raises his arms, backs further away. "Sorry, I promise I won't—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"NO. Just fucking listen to me! We … we haven't done this yet. Before, I mean." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So you're …" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A virgin. Yes." It feels good and bad at the same time to admit it, but Yuri has a hard time making friends, and his tumultuous life definitely doesn't leave room for hooking up. Besides, the only guy he has even been interested in seemed light years away. And it's not like Yuri thought of himself as straight, but he hasn't realized until now that he fell for his best friend. And now he will lose him. Because not every problem can be tackled with more training or yelling or pure, stubborn, unrelenting power. Yuri is at the end of his rope. "Beka. I have to tell you something." Otabek steps closer to him. Maybe Yuri's tone alerts him. Maybe he wants to comfort Yuri. Whatever the reason, Yuri is grateful. "Sit. Please." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek follows his plea, sits down, takes Yuri's hand in his. God, admitting that you're a lying piece of scum is so much worse when the person you lied to is so close. Physically and emotionally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What is it?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How should he start? </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I lied to you and ruined everything. We aren't really a couple. All those memories are just friendship, not love, and you came out to your parents for nothing. But it's okay because now I realized that I actually do like you.'</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sounds great. Nothing could go wrong. He hears Otabek's confusion in his mind, all the questions, all the worries. Even though Otabek doesn't really speak much. Well, friend-Otabek doesn't. Apparently, boyfriend-Otabek enjoys talking. And cuddling. And kissing. Yuri is reluctant to let all of this go, but he knows he has to. He knows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yura?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. He didn't say anything yet. Good. And bad. Because now he has to actually say it, and it's a lot. It's so much. How can he—how should he— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Whoa there." One of Otabek's hands lands on his shoulder, the other cradles his face. "Yurochka. What's going on? Do you need anything?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Yuri feels like crying. He's overwhelmed, emotions piling on top of emotions. He wants to hold on to Otabek's hands, wants to duct tape them to himself so Otabek can't leave him, but that will happen. It will definitely happen. Otabek will go and— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yura … what is going on?" He's pulled against strong shoulders and then onto a warm lap. "I'm sorry. We don't have to do this, I promise. I didn't mean to push you or anything, I just—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No!" Great, he's crying now, and it will be ugly crying soon enough. Yuri will be covered in snot and tears and he will be disgusting and—no. "It's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>you!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not me?" Otabek is puzzled, but to his credit, he doesn't drop his friend even when Yuri dissolves into hiccupy sobs. He hasn't noticed how much pressure built inside of him during the last few days, but now that it's breaking free, Yuri feels like a balloon without a knot to keep the air in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not you. It's … it's me. I'm terrible. I'm … I'm the worst person on this planet. I don't deserve you!" Otabek looks at him as if he's being overdramatic, but he doesn't get it. Not yet. "I … I have to make a confession." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The way Otabek pales is unexpected. Yuri knows he will be shocked when he hears what Yuri did but—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Please tell me there is no one else." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What? Someone else? How … how? The thought is so absurd, he forgets to cling to his panic. "What do you mean … someone else? There has never been anyone! Other than you. Never!" Yuri sounds almost accusatory now. How could Otabek say something that dumb? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The way his best friend exhales indicates that Otabek would have considered that a very bad idea, too. "No one else, then?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Of course not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then I can handle it. Whatever it is. I can handle it. I just … I don't want to lose you. Okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri frowns deeply. Another sob bubbles up from his chest. He begins to stress-shake again, vibrating in Otabek's grip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can't promise that. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He can't promise that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri sits at the kitchen table. Not even at the fancy dining chair in the next room, the literal damn kitchen table. By now, it's dark. Summer months stretch the light across the days, but it's late enough for the last of the sun beams to be gone. He's cradling a mug of tea. It's too fucking warm for a hot beverage, but Otabek said sage tea will help him calm down and he's in no position to argue with an herb wizard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri is slurping. He's in no hurry to get this over with anytime soon. What comes after is too dreadful. But Otabek next to him looks nervous and stressed. So Yuri pulls himself together eventually. Not for himself but for his best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think I made you wait long enough." Otabek nods. He struggles to hide his impatience, which says a lot because Otabek was probably born stoic. "Before I say anything else … I'm sorry. Please know that I'm sorry and that I never had any malicious intent and that there's an explanation, okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "You are sure there's no one else? I don't like how this is starting. I feel like I am still missing something important. I remember almost everything now, I think. But you're nebulous. Always with me, in flesh or spirit, but I just … I can't pin it down." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was a lot of words for him. For the old Otabek. Yuri has to remind himself that he isn't talking to that version of his best friend anymore. But he might be again, sometime soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, well. That's what I need to talk to you about." Otabek bows his head. He's … is he fumbling? What the fuck? Yuri reaches out, instinctively, and takes big hands into his smaller ones. "But … uuuhm … we will work this out, I guess. Okay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek nods. That's something. Okay. He can do this. Yuri inhales, deeply, about to try and say something, when Otabek looks back up. "You … you don't have to say it. Right?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Huh? Yuri's eyebrows crease together. "Uhm … no but …" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their joined hands are shaken lightly, Otabek tightens his grip. "You … you don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>have to say it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you don't want to. Right? Do you want to?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri chews his lip. He really fucking doesn't. He really, really doesn't want to say it. But it's the right thing to do. He can't keep lying about their relationship. Or is that what Otabek meant? That he doesn't have to say it because he knows? That he figured it out? Yuri is lost. But he can't—won't—play games any longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right. I don't have to say it. But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to say it. You can decide what you do with that knowledge then." Otabek seems unhappy with that decision, but Yuri has to soldier through. That's what he owes his best friend. "When you fell on the ice … my brain stopped working. I came running for you. Of course I did. I always will." He squeezes Otabek's hands, hopes it emphasizes that he means his words, even if everything goes to shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek bites his lip. Then, again. "You don't have to say it." It sounds more pitiful now. Yuri is pretty sure he was correct with his prediction and that his best friend knows what's up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He frowns. They need to discuss this. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to. But maybe … Yuri squeezes their hands again, leans over, carefully, until his face is halfway to Otabek. He tilts his head. Waits. It's a frustrating, awkward position, but it doesn't last long. Within two seconds, once he processes what is going on, Otabek's lips are on his. It's … tender. As if they are trying something new. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything in Yuri tightens. He suddenly feels like he needs to cry, draw back, and toss himself into it at the same time. His stomach rolls with excitement. Otabek knows. Maybe. He's still kissing him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They kiss for a while. Baby kisses, really. Small and yet so meaningful. It's gentle. Yuri opens his eyes when Otabek's hand is in his hair. He pulls back, but only to look at his best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Please don't say anything." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri sighs, softly. They are interrupted by Potya mewling at them. Someone closed the bathroom door again and she can't reach her litter box. Yuri is grateful for the warning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes his tea with him, first to the bathroom, then to his bedroom. Otabek follows him like a shadow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's hard being honest with himself. Yuri wants to keep his mouth shut and live the dream, but he can't keep Otabek in the dark, even if he wants it. But before he can say much, it's Otabek who starts talking. "How much of it?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some really, really nasty part in Yuri wants to quip, </span>
  <em>
    <span>'oh, now you wanna talk?'</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but that's literally the dumbest thing he could do and he's self-aware enough to realize. So instead, he rephrases. "How much of what?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They drop onto his bed. It's suddenly cold, a clear divide between them. Just in the kitchen, they touched casually. It's gone now. "How much of it is … fake?" Yuri licks his lips, swallows. Has the paint on his wall always been so chipped? The carpet under his feet feels weird. Maybe he needs to get his skates sharpened ag—"Yura?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck. Yeah. That. This life-changing conversion. He tries to be honest with Otabek and himself. "None of it." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek nods, as if he understands. But not even Yuri does. "Then tell me about how we started dating." Yuri is still chewing on his lip, tastes a bit of iron, stops because he hopes Otabek will still kiss him again at some point, and blood between them would be disgusting. Again, Otabek fills the silence. "That's it, isn't it?" He stretches, spine popping in two places from sitting around all day. "We never did." Why should he lie? Yuri nods. He wants to add </span>
  <em>
    <span>'not officially'</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but what's the point? "Yeah. I thought so." Otabek stands up. Stretches again. Walks around the bed and grabs the bag with his clothes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Where are you going?!" Yuri is in a blinding white panic all of a sudden, warm and cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mila offered me to—" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"NOT TO MILA!" Yuri is a little too loud. Their families are sleeping, after all. "Not to Mila. Please." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek's ever stoic mask slips for a second to allow a frown. "Why not?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"She likes you." It sounds like defeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Isn't that a reason to go?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I like you, too." Yuri feels tiny, smaller even than he felt when he left his first competition as a senior, second place to Katsuki. Or last place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it works, Otabek drops the bag as if it's filled with cobblestone. "Do you?" It sounds too hopeful for someone in their twenties. Otabek looks almost like a kid, anxiously waiting for a returned letter. Do you wanna go out with me? Yes, no, maybe? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri's nose twitches. "Yes," Yes, he does. He's back to sounding defensive, but that's okay. That's very </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek sits down once more. "So we … aren't dating." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And you know what, fuck it. He managed to survive this until here, he will survive the rest. "Yes, we are." This time, Otabek looks honestly confused. Hesitant. Hopeful. "We weren't dating when you fell. But we are dating </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you want us to be." It's the last sliver of bravery he has left, but no one needs to know that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Well, that's an underwhelming reaction. But Otabek then crawls across the bed, lifts his arm, offers Yuri to hide underneath. "Well, then. Tell me about our first date."  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri shakes his head, can't believe the man. "How did you even know?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I struggled to grasp why I wouldn't tell my parents. They know how, uhm … infatuated I am with you." Yuri grins. "Then, the entire situation on social media. You wouldn't tell me which pictures are real. Because they aren't. I struggled to believe that Yuri Plisetsky wouldn't share that news with his fans." His grin widens. Otabek knows him. "And now, the entire situation with Viktor and Yuri and everyone else and how they behaved like all of this was new, even though it didn't fit to what you said at the start." Yuri sighs. They really didn't help. "But the biggest cue—" Yuri perks up like a mercat, "—was that you obviously didn't know how to kiss." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek laughs, and it's the sweetest noise Yuri ever heard. But it's almost drowned out by him, hitting Otabek with half-hearted punches. "FOR REAL?" The man giggles. The goddamn most handsome man in the world giggles like a schoolgirl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No. It was you refusing to tell me how we got together, even though you answered every other question." Yuri nods. Makes sense. "But … but honestly, Yura. Why?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And this is how they talk, for real, for the first time in forever. Yuri tells him how the ambulance arrived, how scared he was, how he didn't think and blurted out an innocent lie just to be able to stay with the man he felt responsible for. Otabek was otherwise alone in Russia. Yuri had to be with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tells his best friend about their first kiss, right in the middle of the hospital room, how Otabek held him, and how confused Yuri was. But how happy. He emphasizes this with a few kisses. The veil is lifted, the cat is out of the bag, but Yuri refuses to let Otabek think for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he didn't mean it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continues to tell him about Yakov and Lilia, about coming out to Otabek's parents and that he was sure they knew. But that they didn't and that they now </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stay together, it is the law. Otabek smiles through it. He tells him about briefing Viktor and how useless the other man is, about his conversations with Mila and her threat to steal him and that </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Otabek wasn't allowed to see her when they would fight, ever. Another law. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri speaks about finding fanfic and fanart and drowning himself in the what-ifs, unintentionally. About being unable to resurface once he went under. He even dares to speak about how good it felt to cuddle, how good it still feels, and Otabek pulls him tighter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's anticlimactic. It's better than anything Yuri ever dared to imagine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, when everything is said and done, Otabek doesn't stop kissing him. They don't stop touching each other, holding onto each other. When they finally fall asleep that night, it's day already. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>THE CAT IS OUT THE BAG AND YOU MANAGED TO MAKE IT SO FAR!<br/>Congratulations - you unlocked the resolving conversation!<br/>There is still some cutesy sexy stuff next week, but this is the thing you all waited for, isn't it?<br/>So how do you feel? Are you happy? Disappointed? Did you miss something?</p><blockquote class="userstuff">
  <p>Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae">Taedae</a>, and to you as the reader.<br/>I'm also on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free">Tumblr</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/">, Instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/venom_for_free">Twitter</a></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Recap Chapter 6:<br/>Yuri finally hypes himself up to have the conversation. Otabek wants to get intimate with him, but Yuri's morality gets into the way. He admits they haven’t done anything sexual yet. When Otabek gets worried about his discomfort, Yuri works himself into a panic. Otabek reaffirms him he can handle everything, just not losing Yuri. Eventually, he begs Yuri not to say anything. Eventually, they do talk and Otabek decides to leave, but Yuri stops him. They finally talk it out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yuri doesn't realise it's Sunday until he wakes around ten in the morning. Hours and hours after his normal time. He stretches, arms bumping into Otabek. It's too warm to snuggle, he tells himself. But Lilia is in France and the Altins traveled back two weeks ago, so the flat is empty except for them. Therefore, Yuri still curls around Otabek, turns himself into his jetpack, even though he's slightly taller now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to be the little spoon. If Otabek would let him. But he's still asleep, the lazy asshole. Yuri begins to buzz with the usual energy streaming through him like an electric current. He begins to plaster kisses over Otabek's neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's like what he imagined some weeks ago, but better because it's real. It's also not as good because he's still not over being the big spoon. Yuri doesn't want to wake his boyfriend, his actual boyfriend now, but he also doesn't want to be the only one conscious. And leaving the bed to watch TV or go for a run or do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> else than just being here with his partner isn't going to happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he keeps caressing Otabek. And if it's a little more excitable than necessary, if he's a little too enthusiastic about it, so what? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But nothing. Yuri's plan is fruitless, Otabek keeps sleeping, and now, Yuri's mind isn't the only part of his body that's awake and frustrated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Beka …" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No reaction. Maybe … Yuri rolls his hips. He's officially allowed now, they are boyfriends. They spoke about it. It was every bit as weird as he expected, but it was less uncomfortable, somehow. Although, the conversation with Lilia about it was worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The one with Yakov, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the one with Viktor and Katsuki, who still considered themselves to be his parents? The worst. Not because of the warnings that Lilia and Yakov couldn't, wouldn't stop uttering. But because Viktor felt the need to give them </span>
  <em>
    <span>tips</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck's sake, what would they need tips for? Especially from someone as ancient as him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A week later and five minutes into a clumsy mutual handjob, Yuri was secretly grateful for what he remembered. But he'd rather die than let Viktor know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bekaaaaa …" It's more of a whine now. Yuri would be ashamed if someone else heard him like this, but his Otabek? He'd have to endure. "Wake uuuuuuuup." Nothing. Not even a twitch, and Yuri wonders if Otabek is faking it. Only one way to find out. "Guess I'll have to go for my morning run, then." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek's hand sneaks back around his middle, presses Yuri close. Yuri grins. Ha. So he was awake and wanted to be … What? Pampered? The thought is cuter than Yuri expected. He presses little kisses to Otabek's neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're awake?' </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His answer is a grunt and a slight wiggle. Silent encouragement to continue. So Yuri does. He bites and kisses down his best friend's neck. Now boyfriend's. Otabek is finally both. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first few times they did this, it was sloppy. Uncoordinated, confused, jumbled. But they got better. Now, even though it’s only a few weeks later, Yuri knows where he needs to place his kisses to elicit the reactions he craves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otabek finally turns around. Hugs Yuri close, crushing them together. As they should be. A little kiss between them, the complaint about morning breath, and more kisses, undeterred. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When there's a countdown on your days together, you don't waste time. Not even to brush teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kisses grow deeper now, hands wander. Yuri brushes tingling fingertips over the strong muscles in Otabek's chest. By now, he started to train again. Just the smallest bit and nothing where he had to spin or could fall on his head. But stretching and lighter training. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's too warm to make out." Yuri needs to complain, at least a little. Otabek can't know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> affected he is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> in love. The other man laughs softly, kisses Yuri's head. He knows, anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then let's stop and go for your morning run?" Otabek is as serious as Yuri was when he proposed the idea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fuck you, touch me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm not sure I can do both of—" He's silenced with a rough kiss, a leg pressed between his. Yuri can be a little overwhelming when you don't know how to deal with him, but Otabek is an expert. He grabs Yuri’s hips, squeezes, pulls him on top. Yuri likes control and feeling like he is the one who calls the shots. Even though they both know that's not always the case. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are both in their underwear. It's too hot for anything else, and it starts to get too hot for underwear, too. So it comes off, hastily, without thinking much about it. They have seen each other naked, again and again, dozens of times. In locker rooms, showers, the bathhouse, and when they finally decided to take things a step further, in Yuri's bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He almost topples over when Yuri pulls his underwear off, mostly because he refuses to leave Otabek's lap for it. Then, it's the feeling of them being as they should be, constantly, with each other. Naked skin against naked skin and endless trust. Happiness. It feels good to be so close. It feels better to be closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri moves back, but only to reposition himself. He aligns both of them next to each other, before Otabek wraps his hand around them. They are pressed together, lip to lip, chest to chest, and everywhere else they need to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's rough. Otabek's hands are littered with blisters, from the bike, from the DJ pult, from freestyle dancing. It's the perfect contrast to Yuri's long, delicate fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a while, this is all they need. But soon enough the drag gets too hard, too tight, too much and not enough. Yuri feels over and under-stimulated, all at once. So he breaks away, just for a breath, just to lean back and grab the lube. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lube makes everything better, Viktor told him. He rolled his eyes, but after the first two clumsy attempts with nothing and then body lotion, lube was quickly added. Turns out, the old pervert knows what he's talking about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri's fingers swap with Otabek's. It's much more velvety now, but he has to grip harder to match the sensation. It's good, even if it's not all the way, not yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, Yuri is gasping. He's always the first one to give in, the first one overwhelmed, but also always the first one ready for a second round. Otabek rarely declines him. They are teenagers flooded with hormones and a newfound, old love for each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri is panting now, his hips start to move along with his hand. His pace gets messier, more desperate, and Otabek has this weird, uncalled for, romantic gloomy glint in his eyes as he watched Yuri come undone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After all these years of just watching, he gets to touch, to hold, to love. When Yuri crumbles in his arms, Otabek tugs him against his chest. They are still kissing, but Otabek's hand joins Yuri's now. His grip is even tighter. It's over before Yuri is done coming down from his high. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pant into each other's mouths. It's messy and smells like morning breath and sex. Neither of them can make themselves care enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it feels they can walk again and the itching sensation on their skin becomes too much, they make their way into the bathroom. Brushing your teeth next to someone you love is bliss. Washing the evidence of your joined pleasure off is an entirely different, but not at all less intense feeling. Yuri treasures it. He knows there will be times when they are forced to different halves of the contingent again. But not yet. Not today. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He climbs out of the shower. It takes longer to finish his morning routine than Otabek, right until the point where it comes to styling hair. Then, Otabek catches up to him because even though he doesn't look the part with his cool rock aesthetic, he's extremely careful with it. Doesn't want to end up half bald at thirty, like his father. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Yuri read that men with a higher testosterone level go bald sooner, he immediately snapped a picture of the article for his best friend. It only increased his paranoia. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, Yuri is smiling at him. Not directly, but through the mirror. It's just a morning run. But one very stubborn strand is wrestling Otabek's best efforts into submission. So Yuri picks up his phone. He takes a picture of the both of them, knowing it will be converted into a fanfic or fanart soon. He doesn't care. It's uploaded before Otabek can even try to complain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nowadays, the internet is filled with genuine couple-pictures of them. Yuri was shocked when he learned just how little everyone seemed surprised. Maybe they </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> been dating for a while, and everyone knew, except them. Now though? Now they know. Both of them. And Yuri promises to himself as he watches the man he loves win the vicious battle against his hair, he promises, even if he ever falls on </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> head, he won't forget </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AND THAT'S A WRAP ♥ </p><p>Did you like the story? Consider subscribing to me as an author, so you can read more stuff like this!<br/>I have a lot coming up in the next weeks. So even if this story ends, new ones will come.<br/>I'm honestly super excited for "Superfan", a project where I got help from over a dozen creators!<br/>Don't miss out on that! And please don't forget to leave me your thoughts, both on the story in general and the ending in particular!</p><blockquote class="userstuff">
  <p>Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae">Taedae</a>, and to you as the reader.<br/>I'm also on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free">Tumblr</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/">, Instagram</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/venom_for_free">Twitter</a></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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